CSGC
by RogueCanuck
Summary: With the Ori starting to make bold moves, the lives of seven young students are changed with a single attack on Earth. They are forced to enter into a war they were previously unaware of and become an elite team before being thrown into the fires of war.
1. Per Ardua Ad Astra: Prologue

Author's notes in profile.

_**Per Ardua Ad Astra**_

**(Through Adversity to the Stars)**

**Prologue:**

It was night on P9G-387 as SG-1 started the trek back towards the Stargate. For the last week the team had been observing a group of Ori fanatics sweeping through the abandoned villages in the area. Five weeks ago, the area had been teeming with life, locals shopping, talking, walking, and singing in the marketplace. Now, the place had blast marks and bullet holes from the initial encounter between SG-1 and the Ori army.

The entire team was covered in dirt and grass, with only their guns even appearing remotely clean. In the lead, Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell trudged as fast as his tired legs would take him. Despite the very real danger of having seen a third planet taken over by the invading force larger than the US Air Force, the only thing on his mind was a long hot shower and a warm soft bed. If he didn't drop from exhaustion on the way to the gate, he would even take them in that order.

Behind Mitchell, Lieutenant Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter and Doctor Daniel Jackson moved equally grudgingly, both thinking the same thing. It was apparent to the large, dark-skinned man at the end of the quartet that all three of his human companions were a little better than asleep on their feet. Not that Teal'c could blame them, after all. Even he was feeling the effects of a week of escape and evasion while trying to gather as much information on the enemy as possible.

Because of this, even the stalwart Teal'c failed to hear the noise ahead of them for many critical seconds. As he started to see the top of the Stargate over the ridge in front of them, the noise of a large group of people transiting through the gate became apparent. Reaching out, he pulled Daniel to a stop, using pressure on the younger man's shoulder to tell him to go to ground. A stride later, Teal'c did the same to Carter before he grabbed Mitchell by the back of his vest. The sudden shock was enough to wake Mitchell up as he went to ground willingly before beckoning the others to join him.

Teal'c went prone a short distance away, peering over the lip of the ridge. His eyes widened imperceptibly as he saw the large force in front of him transiting in squad sized chunks. When he pulled out his binoculars and looked over at the man in front of the DHD, a very small snort of incredulity escaped his lips.

Moving carefully, he crawled over beside Carter. "Colonel Carter, do you see the symbols dialed on the DHD?" He held out his binoculars, saving her the trouble of having to pull hers from her pack. Without saying anything, she took them and looked over the DHD much as Teal'c had. Watching closely, Teal'c could tell when she had noticed the address as her eyes widened and a small "oh" escaped her lips. She looked down at her GDO, pressed the transmit button and saw the closed signal from the iris control system come on.

The gate shut down suddenly, giving them a brief respite from the back lighting of the wormhole. They took advantage of the extra darkness to move to a position where the could see everything clearer. A minute later the Stargate whooshed to life, and troops started to go through again.

And again 38 minutes later, the gate shut down only to be dialed back to Earth. Once it finally shut down, the team made it's way to the DHD and dialed home. Carter sent their IDC through, received no iris closed signal for the prescribed ten second wait, and lead the team through the wormhole to Earth.


	2. Per Ardua Ad Astra: Enter the Players

**Enter the Players**

(Three hours ago)

"... And for Monday, I expect you to have your paper on the equal rights laws currently in effect on my desk at the start of class. Now go home." Almost as a single body, the class sighed with relief as Chevoski finished his three hour period of lecture. There was a hurried slamming of laptops, slapping of books and zipping of bags as everyone hurried to get out of the classroom.

As James McCallister slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and walked out, a pair of people caught his eye. One was tall, broad-shouldered and built like a pro football player and the other was slightly shorter with blonde hair and a slimmer and far more curvaceous build. A grin came to his face as he watched the two embrace. To the casual observer who didn't know the pair, they might think that Robert Samuels and Andrea Grace were together. However, James could immediately note how the kiss to the cheek they exchanged barely brushed skin and how they never quite completely relaxed into each other. They were close, but they were not lovers.

In fact, as they broke apart, Rob and Andrea caught sight of James and both grinned. Rob stood back and gave Andrea a small push towards James. Smiling wistfully, Rob ran a hand over his beard and wished for the millionth time that he could once again know the kind of love that James and Andrea shared. Even when the gestures they exchanged were as simple as a hug, chaste kiss and clasped hands, anyone with half a brain could tell they were truly in love.

Stepping forward, Rob extended his hand and clasped it to James' forearm, feeling the other young man's hand grasping his. They held that for a moment before parting, the trio settling immediately into a moderate pace, aimed at the cafeteria of the school they were at.

As they walked from the classroom, Rob looked down at the combination waiting area and lounge known as "The Pit". Once a few years before any of the three had left high school, it had actually been a sunken area. But once Durham College's campus had been expanded to host the new University of Ontario Institute of Technology, the area had been filled it by the powers that be for some unknown reason.

Taking the stairs down from the upper floor, the three began talking about the weekend to come. "Y'know," Andrea began, "It is Brian's birthday on Saturday. We should do something for it."

Grinning, Rob opened the door at the base of the stairs for the other two. "Hey, we've still got tomorrow and Friday to work at it. After all, when do we ever plan something more than a day in advance?"

Giving them both a speculative glance, James had to agree. "He's right, unfortunately. And besides, none of us have work schedules for this weekend yet, anyway." Andrea made a non-committal noise that made little sense to everyone but the two men with her.

When they entered the cafeteria a moment later, James motioned for the other two to grab one of the tables while he went and got their food. Doing as they were bidden, Andrea and Rob went to grab a table, but not before Rob grabbed the bag slug over James' shoulder, causing the smaller man to spin somewhat gracefully out of the strap.

Setting both his friend's bag and his own down, Rob reached into both and pulled out the laptops while across from him, Andrea did the same with hers. Somewhat fittingly, the couple had matching laptops, while Rob had a slightly more battered but far more powerful one he'd built with the help of a friend downtown. Pulling his out of standby, Rob started some music playing on his, not bothering to check what song was first up.

By the time he'd finished that, James was back with three slices of pizza and three drinks. A bottle of water went in front of Andrea while a bottle of iced tea landed in front of Rob. James kept the Pepsi for himself and laid a stack of napkins in between them.

"So, Rob, did you get a court time booked for Friday?" James asked as he took his first bite.

Nodding, Rob took one of the napkins James had dropped in the centre of the table. Wiping his face quickly to remove the slight trail of tomato sauce that invariably got caught in his beard and mustache, he cleared his mouth to answer. "Yeah. We're booked in for 1640 on court one."

"Shiny. Look forward to it."

At this, Andrea sighed. "I hope you two don't forget about the D and D game on Friday in the commons."

Grinning, Rob looked over at her with a perfectly innocent tone, "Ria, would we EVER forget about your game?" He ducked slightly as a balled up napkin came flying at his face. He decided to come clean about things before she threw her pizza at him. "We did, but we've got plenty of time to make it to the game. We're done with squash at 1845, and the game's not until 1930."

Looking somewhat mollified, she sat back a bit and gave the two young men a contemplative look. "Well, as long as you're promising to be there." Both nodded to reinforce the point.

Fifteen minutes later, the trio of friends had finished up their pizza, packed up their laptops, and wandered over towards the Learning Commons. The commons was a large area filled with computers. All privately mused that the place was misnamed, but none commented to each other.

They met up with a fourth friend of theirs near the back of the room. He was already sitting around one of the round lounge tables, three other chairs around sitting empty. Looking up from the laptop in front of him, Luke Mallard had a slightly blank look on his face. Well used to it, all three just sat down in the little circle of chairs with him.

Pulling out their laptops again, James and Rob booted up and dug out Ethernet cables to plug into the LAN with. Moments later, Luke looked back up at them. "What game are we playing today?"

James shrugged. "Well, I've got a new map to try with..."

Rob suddenly tuned him out. Something was going on out in the quad, near the bus loop. He squinted and winced slightly as a sudden bright pulse of light hit his eyes. He quickly blinked spots away as he saw that the sculpture he and his friends had always joked looked like the gate from Wormhole

X-treme was replaced with something that looked disturbingly similar to the gate itself. In fact, the giant ring started to click the top chevron in and out.

Jaw hanging down slightly, some inner instinct had him shutting his laptop fast. A moment later, laptop, charger and cables were all stuffed haphazardly into the bag, and Rob was hastily pulling plugs for the other two laptop users. James looked up as he noticed his power and network connections cut.

"Look out there, James." Without even waiting for James to look, Rob was digging in his bag for his multi tool, hooking tool and pouch over his belt swiftly. When he looked up, a huge flair of what looked like a cross between water and plasma gushed out from the ring. By then, every person in the large learning commons was staring out the window, watching with baited breath.

Before anyone got the nerve to move, James stepped up beside Rob. "We've got to get these people out of here. This can't be good." Rob nodded mutely, knowing the danger consciously, but unable to tear himself from the amazing sight of what looked like water hanging in a wall. A gasp went through the assembled students as a group of men carrying something that looked like a cross between a staff and a rifle came stepping through the hanging water. They looked around before planting themselves, staff rifles at the ready.

A moment later, another group appeared and started to look around. As this group took positions with the first, all of them aimed their staff-like rifles. A slight orange flash at each muzzle appeared before the first fired, blowing a small crater into the wall beside the emergency exit to the commons. At that moment, three things happened.

James and Rob dove for their friends, James diving mostly to cover Andrea, and Rob slamming Luke out of his chair and to the scant cover of the floor and table while shielding the part of Andrea left open by James with his body.

The main mass of students started to try and press their way out the doors at the west end of the commons, causing a traffic jam and making them sitting ducks for anyone else wanting to fire some kind of plasma blast at them.

Every one of the other invaders opened up fire around them, aiming for anyone and everyone they could see. The brilliant gold plasma bursts melted and shattered the glass wall between the mass of students and the invaders. Subsequent shots began to slam into heads, chests, arms and backs of terrified students, each hit eliciting a sizzle of badly burned flesh, a very sickening thud of something hitting flesh hard, and a scream of pain if the person survived the initial shot.

Stray shots slammed into desks, chairs and computers, setting several of the cloth-covered chairs ablaze and shattering dozens of computer screens all over the trapped students. The noise of exploding projection tubes and overheated capacitors added to the sudden stench of ozone, burnt flesh and burning electronics, adding to the visual chaos.

Hands and arms covering their heads from the flying debris in their area, James and Rob looked at each other quickly, coming to the same thought. "We've got to get out of here," James stated for the benefit of the other two. Nodding, they looked over towards the available doors. One was under constant fire from the attackers while the other was crammed with every other student wanting out and many of them getting shot for clustering together.

All four of them immediately knew that their chances of getting out like that were slim to none at all. They were among the most unfortunate students as they had been caught farthest from the normal exits. So they decided to go for the ABNORMAL exits.

"James, see if you can get through the door to William's! I'll get us into this classroom." Moving fast, James and Rob rose and split off in two different directions. James threw himself at the wooden door they all knew had a chair jammed under the other side. He hoped that the sudden shock of his body slamming into it would jar the chair enough that the door would pop open. Instead, he just bounced off it, narrowly avoiding getting hit with a plasma blast outside. It hit one of the window panels beside the door, melting and shattering it, spraying shards at James as he ducked back.

Meanwhile Rob had gone for the large clear walls of the classroom that jutted slightly into the learning commons. Giving one pane a fast rap with his knuckles, he ducked behind a bunch of computers and their desk, watching as bursts slammed in above his head. They weakened the material he assumed to be plexi-glass enough that Rob was hoping he could shatter it fully with a good impact. Two more bursts slammed into his cover, setting a chair across from him alight while the second shattered a computer screen, showering him with melted plastic and hot metal.

Reaching beside him and up, he grabbed the top of the chair near him and flipped it so that as he rose, it would already be prepared to be swung like a baseball bat. Peaking around the desk legs, he saw that the invaders were busy with their grisly target practice. Moving as swiftly as he could, he stood and used the chair like a hammer, slamming it again and again into the plexi-glass, finally shattering it before a shot into the seat of the chair had him tossing it aside and diving back towards the scant cover hiding his friends. Ducking his head into the strap of his laptop bag, he grabbed James' as well and looked around for the slimmer man. Not seeing him anywhere, he shrugged mentally, knowing that wherever he was, James would be doing everything in his power to help his friends and keep himself alive. _Either way_, Rob mused, _I can't do anything for him until I've gotten these two out of here._

Not waiting any longer, Rob grabbed the attention of Luke and Andrea. "Alright, on my command, we make a charge directly for the opening I made. Keep your head down and move as fast as you can. Use what cover you've got and get out of here. I'll bring up the rear."

Looking at him like he was a fool, Andrea pulled away from him a bit. "I'm not leaving without James."

Knowing they didn't have time for arguments, Rob ignored her protest and slapped Luke's arm. "GO!" A moment later, he stood up, bags slung across his shoulders, a screaming Andrea trapped in his vice-like grip. All but carrying her the entire way, Rob managed to follow Luke through the busted pane of plexi-glass and even all the way out the door of the classroom. The moment they were at the dubious safety of the hallway, Rob ran directly towards the William's Coffee Pub down the hall, dropping both laptops gently as he did.

Running past the hall entrance, he slammed through the double set of doors until he was outside, determined to buy James the time he needed to dodge away from the blistering fire that had kept him huddled behind a low wall in the coffee shop.

Grabbing some fairly small rocks off the ground around him, he moved into sight of the invaders and started hurling both rocks and insults. "Hey, you ugly motherfuckers! Can't fire at someone who's not scared of you? You a race of fucking yellow bellied cowards!" He finished it by managing to bounce one of his rocks off the face of an invader.

While none of the invaders seemed to understand exactly what he was saying, they understood the insults. However, until that one rock had hit the face of their friend, they were content to ignore the ranting young man. Now, however, five of the staff rifles turned towards the rapidly moving young man.

When Rob saw this, he broke back towards the doors, millimetres away from the seeking plasma. He could smell the heat from the scorching blasts, cursing himself a fool for attracting THAT much attention. The curses stopped as he saw James able to scramble out into the hallway, grabbing one of Rob's arm's to help move him out of the line of fire faster.

They sprinted together up the corridor to meet up with Andrea and Luke. The former broke away from Luke as fast as she could and all but threw herself onto James, overjoyed that he was not only was she not going to be forced to leave him behind, but that he was unharmed.

Taking a brief moment to reassure Andrea and remind Luke and James, Rob placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "We all get out of this together. We don't leave ANYONE behind. We clear on that?"

Nodding with slightly tear-swollen eyes, Andrea gave him a smile, forgiving him for scaring her. Somberly, James simply held out his right hand and clasped it against his friend's wrist in a slightly antiquated greeting that went far beyond for the two of them. Luke looked a little worried, but he nodded, clutching his bag tightly.

Breaking away from the two lovers, Rob thrust James' laptop at him while he slung his own over his shoulder again. "Alright, way I see it, we need to get some backup and/or some firepower of our own. Preferably both, I would think."

All three nodded before Andrea spoke up. "So what now?"

A dark look passed through Rob's eyes. "Now, we get out to my van, pack in whomever we can, and y'all get the hell out of dodge while I see what I can do to distract these bastards from getting to the dorms."

James grabbed his elbow as Rob started to lead towards his van. "I thought we just swore that we all get out of this together!" He hissed, sounding far closer to angry than Rob had ever heard him.

Undeterred, Rob smiled lopsidedly. "And we will, my friend. After all, I was rather hoping you'd come back and get me by Athletics." Without waiting any longer, he lead them out in a sprint to the parking lot, careful to watch for any signs the invaders had moved around towards them yet. They were fortunate enough that the group of attackers were still blasting everything and everyone in sight on the front quad.

The moment they reached his van, Rob took the bags and dropped them at his feet as he unlocked the rear hatch. Tossing them in with little regard for what was where, he dug into a large container that his family kept back there. It was filled with a first aid kit, blanket, candles, jumper cable, shovel, tire iron, rope, chains, and a large hunting knife. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the first aid kit and the hunting knife, pleased to note that the leather sheath was still in good shape and still had the knife's little brother sheathed below it.

Tossing his keys to James, Rob threaded the knife sheath onto his belt, doing it up again as he laid out his plan. "Alright. James, I need you to tear out of here like a bat out of hell. I know you can do it, especially since you've watched me do it a few times more than I really should have." The four grinned slightly at that, all of them momentarily thinking of the times that Rob had pushed the envelope a bit driving. "Once you get out, call for help. When you're done that, burn rubber up to Conlin road, come left on Conlin, and come back in to where I park when we go to play squash. Sound good?" While waiting for a response, he wrapped the first aid kit strap around his belt, letting him carry it without having to worry about using his hands.

Nodding slightly, James commented "You're crazy, you know that...? How long?"

Rob checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes. No more. If you don't see me by then, get the hell out of here and go for some more backup." Cursing suddenly as a thought came to him, he pulled his cell phone out of it's belt clip and looked at the screen. "I've got no signal." Dejected, he tossed the phone into his bag, not wanting to carry it with him if it was useless.

Pulling their own phones out of pockets, James and Andrea performed the same check. Both came up with no signal. "Something is jamming the cellular bands." Frustrated, James jammed his phone back into his pocket. Andrea followed suit a little less temperamentally.

Sighing, Rob ran a hand through his hair. "You're going to have to gun it down to a land line and call for help." Nodding, James climbed into the drivers seat and started the engine. Shifting into gear as he tried to get comfortable in a seat adjusted to Rob's larger frame, he pushed down hard on the gas pedal, sending the van darting out of it's parking spot.

By the time James had reached the main driveway, Rob was back inside the school. He quickly saw that two of the invaders had made it to the inner wall of the learning commons and were firing in at the unlucky few to be left in the area. He drew the large hunting knife first and opened the strap stopping him from drawing the smaller one. Holding it down from the bottom of his fist, Rob moved as unobtrusively as possible towards the two nearby invaders.

When he got within ten metres of them, gunshots rang out in time with little bursts of red blood exploding from the far invader. He went down gurgling slightly as his friend turned and fired down the corridor, hitting the brave cop who'd been on campus at the time everything had started. The man went down, but hung on to life, valiantly trying to bring his pistol up again to take out the second invader.

Rob used the commotion to flip the knife around in his hand and charge up behind the invader. He grabbed the man's hair and slammed the point of the knife below the base of his skull, severing the brain stem from the spinal cord. It was a very rapid and fairly clean kill. The body twitched slightly for a moment then fell to the ground. Rob paused long enough to jerk the knife out again and wipe it off on the robe-like garments the man had on before he sheathed it, grabbed the staff rifle and sprinted over to the downed officer.

Dropping to one knee fast, he got an up close and personal look at the kind of damage the weapon in his hand could do. The man was bleeding profusely from a very ugly wound just below his ribcage. Cringing, Rob pulled the first aid kit from around his waist and opened it, digging for a sterile pad to try and staunch the bleeding with. Pulling the thick gauze pad free of it's packaging, Rob gently pushed the officer's trembling hands away from the wound. Being as gentle as possible, he held firm pressure on it, trying to staunch the wound.

Freeing one hand, he reached into the kit for some tape. Setting it on the other man's thigh, he gently cut away the remnants of the man's uniform shirt and tried to pull away the smoking bullet-proof vest underneath. A sharp gasp of pain stopped him as he realized that the heat of the plasma burst had fused it to the skin below.

Weakly, the constable pushed at the young man's hands. "Get out of here. You're just going to get yourself killed trying to save me."

Trying not to cause the severely wounded man any more pain than he had to, Rob pushed his hands away and began gently cutting the vest from the man's abdomen. Small hisses of pain had him wincing at he muttered gentle encouragement to hold on. It took a good three minutes before the vest came free of skin, allowing Rob to place the makeshift dressing properly. By the time that was finished, the officer's face had taken on a very ashen hue and was coated in sweat.

Fearing the worst, Rob placed his fingers against the man's throat, feeling for signs of life. A faint pulse met his questing fingers, relieving his fear for a moment. "Hang tight, Officer. We're gonna get out of here." Rob looked down at his watch, noting that James would be waiting for him in seven minutes. Looking the man in front of him over, Rob tried to figure out how to move him without causing too much further injury.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the slight scrape of metal being slid across the tile floor. It was the cop gently pushing his gun towards his would-be rescuer. "Take it, kid." The injured man rasped. "Ain't gonna do me any good now."

Looking worried, Rob took a second piece of gauze and started wiping the officer's face. "Don't talk like that. You're going to be fine. You'll make it out of this."

A wet laugh escaped his mouth as the cop shifted himself very slightly. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a dreamer, kid?" A small groan escaped his lips as he fumbled out of his gun belt. "Take my gun, and get the bastards that did this. Stop it from ever happening again."

Sighing, Rob took the proffered items, ignoring the blood on them. "I promise, Officer. Now come on, let's get you out of here." Starting to stand, he was halted by a weak grip on his leg.

"Tell my wife and daughters I love them, and that I'm sorry I won't make it... to..." Falling silent, the officer's chest heaved once, twice, and fell still.

Hand shaking, Rob reached forward to check for a pulse, already fearing what he'd find. His fears were realized when he found none. Reaching out with two fingers, he gently closed the dead man's eyelids before closing his own eyes and offering a few final words before he pulled a badge from the man's pocket and took the gun and belt as he'd been told.

Wrapping the gun belt around him, Rob holstered the Berretta and took up the staff rifle he'd dropped earlier, hoping he knew how to fire it. Numbly, the young man moved off, looking around for targets of opportunity. His first was an invader that was walking into the pit, blissfully unaware of what was around him.

Carefully, Rob moved closer before raising the staff rifle and pressing what seemed to be the firing stud three times. His first shot missed, but the other two hit, slamming the hapless invader to the ground. Moving fast while he looked for more targets, Rob checked his watch fast. He had three minutes to meet up with his friends and get out of this slaughter house.

A scream caused him to jump before he realized what was going on. Grabbing the second staff rifle, he turned to his right and barged into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. When he got to the top, he leaned the spare staff rifle against the wall, putting his first one there a moment later. Moving slowly, he drew the Beretta and slid the clip out, not wanting to take chances on his ammunition count. Satisfied with the eight rounds he found in it, he pulled back on the slide, checking for the tell-tale gleam of brass in the chamber. A grim smile lit his face as he saw that it was still ready to fire. Replacing the clip and flicking off the safety, he settled into a two-handed grip, left side slightly leading.

Rounding the corner carefully, Rob had a moment to take in the scene of two attackers slapping one of the girls in the school while three more were holding back two young men he assumed to have some relation to the poor girl.

Trying to figure out how best to win the fight fast, Rob realized that if he could take out the two attacking the girl, the other three would be distracted enough for the guys to go back on the offensive, hopefully buying enough time for him to finish the job. Raising the pistol slightly, he sighted down the barrel and pulled the trigger twice rapidly. Two shots rang out incredibly loud compared to the babble of voices it cut out.

Moving his aim as fast as he could to the next invader, Rob fired six rounds into the chest of the startled man. Knowing that he needed to change clips, he rapidly ejected the empty clip from the handle of the gun and fumbled at the unfamiliar belt for a reload. While his fingers were scrabbling, one of the guards on the boys brought his staff rifle up and around. Rather than hoping he could get to a clip fast enough, Rob snapped his last round off as he dove for cover. It hit the invader square in his nose, sending the man back to the ground as if he'd been struck by lightning.

Unseen to Rob, his fire provided enough of an opening for the two captives to move. The larger of the two simply grabbed his target by the back of the neck, brought up a hand to grip the invader's jaw on the far side, and twisted viciously, snapping the invader's neck like a twig.

The smaller of the two instead grabbed for the staff rifle dropped by one of the invaders Rob had shot. Raising it like the shotguns he knew, the smaller man pressed the firing stud twice, sending two plasma bolts into the invader's body at point-blank range. Both invaders were down before they had time to realize how fast the tables had turned on them.

Rolling onto his back, Rob finally got his hand on the elusive clip and slid it home before flicking the slide release with this thumb, bringing the gun back to usefulness. Coming up on one knee to face the remaining hostiles, he saw that he shouldn't have worried as there were now two more young men armed with staff rifles, one of whom was busy trying to offer some comfort to the upset girl.

While not exactly unsympathetic, Rob knew that they had to get out fast before more invaders were drawn by the weapons fire. Holstering his pistol and grabbing the two staff rifles he'd carried into the fight, he gently pressed one into the hands of the still weeping girl. "You're going to need that if you want to stay alive." A concerned look flashed across his face long enough for her to realize that it was the best he could do at the moment to bolster her spirits.

Nodding with determination, she grabbed one of Rob's hands and the hand of her friend, she pulled herself up to her feet. "I'm ready."

While her voice was none too steady, the look in her eye got the message across that her voice couldn't. Rob merely nodded and moved off along the upper floor towards the stairs closest to the athletics complex. Without needing to be told, one of the others took up a position to cover their rear while the other two settled for standing at his left and right shoulder, a pace or two back. Rob was pleased that one of the two leading with him was the girl who'd been sobbing a moment ago. They made it without incident down to the picnic tables that littered the grass between the cafeteria and the athletics complex. Rob checked his watch quickly. They had only two minutes to make it the hundred metres or so to the parking lot for pickup.

Facing the others for a moment, he quickly explained what was going on before he gave them all orders. "Split up, take slightly different paths, and keep your eyes peeled. They could be anywhere by now, and we haven't got the time stand and fight. Understood?"

Nodding, they all moved off along the paths he gestured to. Rob took the most open path, sending both of the other men among the tables while the girl stuck close to the building, which was about the best cover they could give her.

Within thirty seconds, they could see Rob's van, James and Luke using the drivers and passenger doors for cover as they stood with staff rifles, ready to offer covering fire as best they could. Smiling, Rob quickly rapped out some new orders. "James, open the side doors. Luke, get in and make sure the engine's running, I'm driving." Waving at his three companions, Rob broke into a sprint for his seat. Tossing the staff rifle to Andrea, he asked her and two of his three companions to climb in the back quickly. That left the James and the young man who'd stood guard after the little skirmish where they'd met up.

Absently, Rob noted that the man's name was Paul as he greeted James, Luke and Andrea. Busy strapping in and making sure everyone else was strapped in, he missed the other two names. "Alright. We're going to burn rubber out of here. Everyone strap in. James, Paul, be ready to slide the doors open and provide extra cover fire." One last check that everyone was ready, Rob slammed the minivan's gearshift into drive and stomped on the accelerator. Spinning the front tires for a moment, he kept it on line to speed out from the lot, taking the corner just outside it at a pace that caused the fully loaded vehicle to lean severely.

Despite this, he kept it on track as two plasma bursts erupted the ground beside his door. Moving the nose to the right slightly, he quickly jerked it over to the left before two more bursts could hit the minivan as it careened around the next corner. A moment later, he made one more hard turn, this time to the right, and sped off east on Conlin Rd.

Slowing down slightly to take the right onto Simcoe a little slower, Luke pointed towards the road into the school that was coming up. A half dozen invaders stood there, aiming at the oncoming vehicle. Without even bothering to think about it, he slapped the door locks open and powered down the passenger window before handing Luke his Beretta. "James, Luke, cover fire, two o'clock."

The pair reacted swiftly, Luke by leaning out and bracing his hand against the mirror while James slid the door open, turned slightly in his seat, and braced himself to start popping of plasma bursts of his own. Behind him, a second and third staff rifle poked over his shoulders as the girls took aim without prompting. By the time the clip in the Beretta Luke held clicked dry, they had made it past the invaders with the only damage being a shot out tail light.

Looking slightly sheepish, Luke handed the Beretta back to Rob, who simply clicked the slide shut and set it in the cargo net between the seats while he concentrated on driving at over 160 km/h down a wavy, somewhat battered street. As they approached the first traffic lights south of the college, they were met by a wall of flashing red lights and white cars. Slamming the brakes, Rob brought them to a fish-tailing stop a few metres from the roadblock. Putting the van in park, Rob signalled for James to join him in getting out, stopping only to grab the Beretta, slide a new clip home, and chamber a round before he ejected the clip and pulled a loose 9mm round from a small pouch beside the last spare clip. Thumbing it into the top of the clip, he satisfied himself that it was now as full of ammunition as it could be and slid the clip back into the handle of the pistol before holstering it.

Leaving the door open and the restraining strap for his pistol fastened, Rob walked over towards the wall of police. By the time he'd taken three steps, forty guns of varying types were aimed unerringly at his chest and head. Holding his arms out to the side enough to satisfy the message of "I'm not going for my gun", Rob glanced over at James and gestured for him to lay the staff rifle on the ground.

A booming voice caught their attention. "Get down on the ground and keep your hands where we can see them!"


	3. Per Ardua Ad Astra: Si Vis Pacem

_**Si vis pacem, para bellum**_

**(If you want peace, prepare for war)**

With a very disgusted look, the two youths knelt on the ground, raising their hands and placing them on heads. Once they had settled, four cops came up and pushed them face first onto the ground, taking Rob's Beretta and knives as they did so. The two were efficiently cuffed with their hands behind their backs before being hauled upright and frisked throughly, confiscating wallets, keys, and anything else in their pockets before shoving them none to gently towards the waiting cars.

While that was going on, another half-dozen officers were approaching the van, guns aimed and ready to fire at the first signs of hostility. They waved the remaining youths out, cuffing and frisking them slightly gentler than Rob and James.

All seven were rapidly shoved into the back seat of cars before being hustled off to the station downtown. On arrival, they were herded off into holding cells while Rob and James were taken to interview rooms, their hands still cuffed.

A burly sergeant followed James into his room while an older officer ushered Rob into his. Gesturing for the young man to sit down, the officer placed a notepad, file folder and Rob's personal possessions in front of himself with Rob's Beretta on top of the stack.

The older man wasted no time in getting to business. "I'm Lieutenant Redburn. Do you understand that this room is being monitored by video and audio recording equipment?" At Rob's nod and agreement, he continued. "At the moment, you are being charged with possession of a restricted firearm and being held on suspicion of terrorist activities and homicide."

Unable to help himself, Rob laughed quickly. "You're kidding." At the serious look on Redburn's face, Rob quickly composed himself. "Alright. You're not kidding. You're just being an idiot. Your 'terrorists' are still carving a bloody path through the people up at Durham College."

Ignoring the younger man's outburst, Redburn pulled out Rob's wallet, flipped it open and pulled out his driver's licence and military ID. "Robert Elliot Samuels, Second Lieutenant, RCAF Reserve." Redburn casually tossed the cards down and pulled a small vial out of his pocket. "I suspect that if I were to use this to check your hands for gunpowder residue, I'd find it. Am I correct?"

Nodding, Rob saw no reason to deny it – after all, he'd gunned down three invaders with the Beretta in front of the officer. "Yes, you are."

Startling Rob, Redburn lunged at him, slamming his hands down and lowering his face to within inches of the younger man's. "Why the FUCK did you do it, kid? Why did you steal a cop's gun and then turn around and gun him down?"

Snarling, Rob leaned forward into the verbal assault, the frustration of the situation boiling over into his words and body language. "He gave it to me, you dipshit! The cop who owned that gun was killed by one of the weird motherfuckers that are attacking the college. He died doing his duty and gave me the gun just before death finally claimed him so that I could try and save some of the others."

With an angry glare and clenched fists, Redburn pushed away from the table, visibly restraining himself from striking the other man. Jaw working with fury, he finally sat down again, unconsciously playing with the Beretta his friend had carried. "Tell me what happened. Everything important and anything you think irrelevant."

Eyeing Redburn with trepidation, Rob slowly explained everything that had happened, starting with the first flash of light as the gate appeared, and ending with the running firefight along the street and the group's arrival at the police blockade.

* * *

It had taken nearly an hour and a half to recount the short time between the sudden flash of light and the septet's arrival in front of the police blockade. Even with the corroborating evidence of the staff weapons, Redburn had been very suspicious of the tale. Due to that suspicion, Rob and the other six students were left to stew for an extra half hour on top of the time it took to tell the tale.

While the seven were left waiting, Redburn and the other interrogators were busily conferring over their notes. What they were finding left them incredulous. "Boss, I just don't understand. Best we can determine, there was only about fifteen minutes from the start of the attack to our arrival at the blockade. Only a handful of minutes later, these seven show up, toting the gun of a cop we know is stationed there and these weird staff things." To illustrate his point, the speaking officer waved at one of the aforementioned staffs along the wall of the conference room they'd taken over.

The almost perfect mesh of the seven stories was a clear sign to the seven officers that either the group had been planning very far in advance or were telling the truth based on a shared experience that the officers did not want to believe was true. Regardless of how far-fetched the story seemed on the surface, Redburn and the others were slowly coming to the conclusion that it had to be true. The evidence was staring them in the face every time the looked over at the one wall.

Finally sighing and absently picking up the unloaded Beretta his friend had once carried, Redburn had to face the facts presented him. "Can anyone offer a good way to refute the evidence and accounts we've been handed?" His glance around only revealed faces that were as lost as his.

"What did we do to deserve this cock-up of a situation?" Redburn asked rhetorically as he left to go speak with the detainees.

* * *

As Redburn was leaving his meeting, James had his head down and was running all of his law classes through his mind, trying to confirm the legality of what his friend planned. Finally, he was forced to shake his head and sigh. "Look, man, I just don't know enough. It's a real grey area. Best of my knowledge is that counter-terrorism operations falls under military jurisdiction to handle, but at the same time civilian authorities have control the moment the shooting is done.

"It's even worse if we get them to treat this as the prelude to all-out invasion it seems." A small wince crossed the wiry man's face. "Invasion means the military is on it's own in a state of war, which means we'd have trouble counting on any help beyond 'here are some guns' from the cops."

Rob ran his hands over his face and stopped pacing in front of the bars to their holding cell to flop down at the presumed foot of the concrete bed provided, leaning his back against the wall. "So you're basically saying that Andrea and I are on our own to fight this – aside from any reservists I can convince to join me – until the rest of the military gets it's collective ass in gear?" When James nodded unhappily at his friend's assessment, Rob simply nodded and summed up their feelings in one word; "Fuck."

Further conversation was halted as they both heard the click of the door opening into the cell block. A moment later they were greeted by the worn looking face of Damien Redburn.

"Lieutenant, I think it's time we talked again."

Rob merely raised and eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I need to know what this police force can do to help you defend this country."

* * *

His military rank having earned him the leadership of the seven escapees, Rob found himself standing in a loose circle with them at the side of his van. Looking at the scared but determined faces, he took a moment to reflect on what he knew of them.

Immediately to his left was James, his stalwart friend. Many days over the last summers had been spent on a local paint ball field, pushing each other to higher and higher feats of skill in armed combat. Often, Rob had the edge due to his basic training from the Air Force, but James had been a quick study, especially with the paint grenades he could lay as traps. Despite his skill, he had opted not to enter any branch of the armed forces.

On his other side was Luke, the quiet giant of the group. While taller and broader than Rob himself, Luke was a softer person both physically and personality-wise. He was almost impossible to really anger, and took little offense to just about everything. He truly believed in the ideals of peace and freedom, but understood that sometimes you had to fight to get that peace and freedom. Relatively slow on his feet, he had shown himself to be a skilled shot whenever the quartet would get together at the pistol club a short drive east of the city.

The fourth person of the quartet was Andrea. Few people could ever envision the pretty young woman ever raising a weapon, even against a target. Even fewer could believe that she was a student at RMCC- the Royal Military College of Canada after having been a cadet for most of her youth. Just starting in her final year, she had come home to spend a bit of time with her family before classes resumed after summer drills.

The other three individuals standing with them were virtual unknowns. Rob vaguely knew Paul Janson, the cheerful and very photogenic man directly across from him from training with the reserves. The other reservist had been training mostly with the army as an assault specialist while Rob had been trained on the CC-130 Hercules transport more than anything else.

The brunette with the brown eyes was a complete mystery to Rob, despite having seen her once or twice in the halls of Durham while he'd visit with friends there. She had been quiet since the attack, but Rob thought he detected the spark of some real anger in her eyes. She could be a liability or one of the best available.

The final unknown was John Loran. Possessing a very thin build and hair longer than any of the girls tied back in a pony-tail, he seemed to be the textbook definition of a geek. Put a pair of glasses on him and he'd be the perfect face for the stereotypical Dungeons and Dragons player.

Sighing, Rob looked over at Paul. "What's your specialty?"

After looking at the other man to make sure he was the one being asked that question, Paul ran a hand over his short hair. "Close combat and assault operations. Crack shot, aiming and snapping." A slight smile quirked the sides of his mouth as he ruefully added, "It's what got me to Corporal so fast."

Nodding, Rob immediately settled for taking the other soldier with him. "What about you, Hannah? Any kind of combat experience?"

Looking up from where she'd been staring a hole in the ground, she shrugged. "Nothing outside training with the reserve company I joined last month. I haven't even had time to formally qualify. I have done a fair bit of unarmed training, though." She deliberately didn't mention where or why, though. The sudden silence caught the attention of the others far more than any lie would have.

Dismissing whatever was being hidden as irrelevant, Rob turned to John, hoping that the small man would have something useful in his skill-set. Without prompting, he began talking in a quiet voice. "I don't even have any formal self-defense training. I've done some hunting with my father and brother, so I can handle a shotgun and I know basic marksmanship, but that's about it." Helplessly, he shrugged. "If you needed a negotiator or translator, I'm your man. Other than that, I'm likely a liability."

Grimacing, Rob turned around for a moment, letting his mind run through possible plans of action. He finally settled on his original thought – take everyone. Turning back, he met each person's gaze evenly. "Are you all willing to go back in and fight?" Rapid answers came from everyone, some more powerful than others, but all giving the same message. After all, it was their home country that had been invaded.

Nodding at them, he waved towards a conference room where they'd go over the Operations Plan Redburn and Rob had come up with a half hour ago and be assigned their police support.

* * *

It was another fifteen minutes before the impromptu force of college students finished arming themselves. All of them were equipped with full body armour including helmets and leg/groin protection. Most of the team had either a Beretta 92FS, 96G or an H&K USP 9mm Tactical as a sidearm. Rob broke the trend by carrying a USP .45 Tactical on his right thigh, with the Beretta Upton had given him in a holster at the small of his back. James had quickly followed suit with the USP, but didn't bother with the second pistol. They all carried four flash-bang grenades and a 26" ASP baton in case things got face to face..

James and Paul carried the only two P90s the police had. Luke had happily taken the scoped C7A1 assault rifle, while John took a Remington 870 pump-action shotgun, similar to what he'd used hunting. Andrea quickly grabbed herself the only C8A1 carbine left, giving a quick grin before stripping it down and reassembling it, assuring herself it was ready to rock.

After a bit of trial and error, Hannah settled on an MP5A4 with integrated laser sight and tactical light on the front end. The weapon came equipped with a doubled clip arrangement initially, allowing her to reload rapidly.

Not happy with the feel of the MP5 variants available, Rob took a UMP .45. The slightly larger submachine gun felt a little more at home in his hands. To improve things even more, he fitted a combination 1x scope and laser sight to the top rail and added a vertical grip to the lower rail. Slinging the strap across his body, he turned on the radio built into his helmet, setting it to channel four in the reserved tactical frequencies.

Giving the clips on his belt, in the pockets of his body armour, and in the thigh holders on his left a final check, Rob turned and walked confidently towards his van, using the short walk to give both of his pistols a final once-over and make sure that the hunting knife he'd kept on him from the start was still seated properly. Satisfied, he spoke into his comm. "Delta team, one minute until departure. Sound off."

James' voice immediately came back. "Delta Two, ready."

The barest trace of hesitation coloured Andrea's voice as she checked in. "Delta Three, I'm ready as I'll ever be."

"Delta Four, good to go." Luke's calm tones came out of the earpiece. The three who knew him thought they could detect a slight trace of nervousness in his voice.

"Delta Five, set." The simple, to the point comment seemed typical of the quiet John. If anything, it was a very anxious reply for the wiry man.

Paul's confident tones crowed out next."Delta Six, ready to kick ass and chew bubblegum – and I'm all out of bubblegum!"

Over the laughing of the gamers that caught the Duke Nukem reference, Hannah's soft voice came in. "Delta Seven, ready to go."

Satisfied that his team was ready to go, Rob switched to channel five. "Delta Leader to Epsilon Leader. All set?"

Cool and collected, the leader of the five man team assigned to assist and protect the college students quickly came back. "We're ready to follow you in, Delta Leader. I've got the tissues and fresh undies ready for you."

Not missing a beat, Rob quickly quipped back, "Glad to see you've got your team's supplies ready, Epsilon."

Smiling at the inarticulate growl that came through the radio, Rob opened the door to his van and sat down in the driver's seat. "Mount up, people. We're on the clock now."A moment later, he felt the passenger door open and shut as James sat beside him, powering down the window so that he could provide covering fire as needed. John and Paul sat in the back, ready to pop the cord holding the back door shut off it's rest so that they could quickly jump out. Luke sat on the folded down rear seat, facing back, ready to join them. A moment later, the closing side doors signalled that Andrea and Hannah were in and seated, set to jump out of the side doors.

None of them buckled up as Rob shifted into gear, taking his place near the tail of the six vehicle caravan, heading towards the besieged college.

* * *

Making the turn off of Simcoe, Rob held up a hand and gestured to both Andrea and Hannah. They nodded and belted in before opening the side doors, MP5 and C8 at the ready. "Lock and load, people!" Rob ordered before flooring the accelerator and driving down the out driveway. He bounced over the two speed bumps and darted down the ramp to the parking lot. His movements were matched by the staccato firing of the P90 in James' hands, aiming for the few visible guards standing by the gate. Only one of the thirty rounds hit anyone, but they did divert attention from the other vehicles following. The couple of plasma bursts came nowhere near the fast-moving vehicle as Hannah loosed a long burst as she managed to draw a line on the invaders.

A moment later, Rob slammed to a halt beside the doors the four friends had run out of an hour before. Shutting the ignition off, he tossed the keys into the small compartment below the ashtray and climbed out. The rest of Delta team followed his example, assembling with their weapons up and ready.

After a quick look around and a check to make sure Epsilon was still with them, Rob gestured towards the dorm in front of them. "Lock and load, people. Safeties off. James, Hannah, check your clips. Change 'em if they're low."

James glanced at the clear plastic covering the bullets in his clip, counting the twenty still in there. He didn't bother to change it. Hannah pulled her clip and swapped it for it's mate before digging out a fresh clip and replacing the partially used one in the speed-swap arrangement. She hesitated slightly before sliding the partially used clip into the pocket the new clip had come from. Both nodded to Rob.

In turn, he looked over at the balaclava and goggle covered face of Epsilon Leader. "We'll be the hammer to your anvil." A simple nod confirmed the cop's agreement with the infiltration plan they'd roughed out over the radio on the drive up.

The seven young people set off directly ahead, aiming for the ground-level doors to the dorm complex. No plasma fire reached out for them as they took cover to either side. A quick check of the glass doors revealed them to be locked. Not bothering with trying to unlock them, Rob drew his Beretta and fired eight times, two rounds for each piece of glass in front of him. It all shattered, cascading down in a faintly musical crescendo. Shoving the handgun back where it belonged, he rapidly raised his UMP and lead the small team inside. Sweeping left to right and back again, he settled himself pointing towards the door out of the lobby. "Everyone clear?"

A chorus of agreements met his ears before he moved up to try the door. It stubbornly refused to move. "Locked," Rob commented, digging for the lock-popping charges he'd been issued with his grenades. Setting one right over the lock as instructed, he placed a second one at the top of the door, where a bolt went into the ceiling. Stepping back, he saw Paul finishing with the bottom bolt.

Standing clear to either side of the door, he drew out a detonator and passed it to Luke beside him. Giving everyone a quick look to make sure they were safe, he gestured to Luke before resetting his hands on the UMP, ready to force entry.

"Fire in the hole," Luke called softly a second before he triggered the charges. The door slammed open, adding to the boom of explosions. Before the smoke had cleared, Paul was through the door, shouldering it aside as it bounced back, Rob close on his heels. Again, they were greeted by an empty hall. Luke shrugged and handed Rob back the detonator before joining the rest of the team in advancing.

As they moved by twos and threes to the end of the hall, it became apparent that they weren't alone. As the leading two at the time leaned their heads around the corners of the T junction, plasma fire flew at them.

James quickly ducked his head back and flicked his P90 to full auto fire as he gestured that he was facing three enemies. Andrea opted to couch and return fire, the five and six shot bursts coming from her C8 creating a racket in the narrow halls. It wasn't until a shot hit the wall only inches from her face that she pulled back, using the chance to reload. As she moved, James leaned out and sprayed the last twenty rounds in his magazine at his three targets in four bursts. He didn't stay out long enough to confirm how many went down before he pulled back to reload.

Looking across at his girlfriend, he grabbed one of his flash-bangs, pulling the pin clear but holding the safety handle – commonly called "spoon – firmly to the grenade. After waiting for Andrea to do the same, he silently gave a three-count, rising and tossing his grenade at the encamped enemy, mirrored by Andrea. They ducked back quickly, keeping their heads turned away. When they heard the muted bangs of each grenade detonating, the two surged forward, sprinting around the corner, closely followed by Paul and Rob. Between the two pairs, the seven guards fell quickly, shot down by 5.7mm, 5.56mm and .45ACP rounds to the head and torso.

With the all-clear call, John, Luke and Hannah moved up, joining their four companions. They quickly huddled, one eye on their leader, one eye looking for enemy reinforcements. "Alright, people. I obviously failed to cause enough havoc to keep them away or they have simply had too long to start poking around. We're going to split into two sub-teams. Paul, you're going to lead Fire-team 2. I'll take Fire-team 1. Luke, Hannah, John, you're with Paul. James, Andrea, with me. Sweep this floor, secure any survivors, and rendezvous on the roof. If the door is locked and undamaged, mark it and ignore it. We'll have to come back to those later, because we lack the ordinance to waste on checking what are hopefully unoccupied rooms."

The seven split up, delaying only long enough for Paul to offer Rob a salute and get it returned. At that point, Paul took his fire-team along the left branch, leaving the right-hand one to Rob's trio. Looking at James and Andrea, he gestured for them to stay behind him as he came to the first set of doors. Two of the doors were in the corner of the hall, rendering whomever was checking them easy prey for anyone along the corridor.

So Rob ignored them for the moment, opting instead to take cover at the inner wall and peak around the corner, looking through his scope as he did so. There were no obvious targets available, prompting him to move out towards the door facing the T-junction ambush site. The wood had multiple bullet holes and plasma burns on and around it. While James took up a covering position aiming down the corridor, Rob gestured for Andrea to stand on the hinge side of the door before he tested the handle, finding it resistant to his effort to open it.

Digging another lock-popping charge out of his vest, he set it against the deadbolt. Pulling out the detonator, he held the UMP by it's pistol grip and waited for Andrea's nod of readiness. "Fire in the hole."

With that, he triggered the charge and pocketed the detonator before pushing the door in for Andrea to perform a sweep. Inside she found a throughly terrified young man and a young woman she had to assume was his girlfriend huddled on the bed to the left. Both too scared to speak, they mutely stared at the armed young woman in the doorway, scared she'd use the carbine in her hands to cut them down. When she lowered the weapon, they let out a gasp of relief.

Trying not to scare them any further, Andrea spoke softly, trying to ignore the occasional sounds of gunfire from Fire-team 2 as she subtly checked them over for injuries. "It's okay. We're here to help you. It's almost over now. I need you to stay here and keep quiet for the moment. Some police officers will be coming in behind us soon to take you to safety. You okay with that?"

Possessing more courage – or at least more composure – than her boyfriend, the red-headed girl nodded. "We'll wait here. Please hurry." Nodding, Andrea walked out, pulling the battered door closed behind her.

Catching Rob's eye, she held up two fingers. Nodding, he clicked on his radio. "Delta One to Delta Six. We have two survivors. Proceeding on search."

After the terse answer from Paul, the two set up the same way for the door facing directly up the corridor James was covering. The handle refused to turn, so Rob waved Andrea off after checking that everything looked intact. They rapidly moved up the corridor, sweeping for targets and checking the doors. The next three doors they checked were as untouched and locked as the second one Rob had tested, but after that they all showed signs of the locks being blasted away by staff-rifle fire.

Each time they checked the rooms on the first floor for survivors they found either empty rooms or one, two or sometimes up to five bodies showing obvious signs of having been killed by the invaders. Nevertheless, they checked each body for a pulse or any other sign of life. By the time the first floor was cleared, over thirty youths had been found murdered in their rooms by the invaders.

Trying to control his anger, Rob keyed his radio again. "This is One. We're proceeding up the western stairs to the second floor, over."

Paul was as quick to reply this time as he was last time. "Roger-copy. Six moving to floor two in two minutes. We may have found a survivor, over."

Sighing with a small bit of relief, Rob nodded and flicked his radio over to channel five. "Epsilon, Delta is moving up to level two."

A terse answer latter and he gestured for Andrea and James to breech the stair door. With Andrea opening it and James moving in following the door, Rob moved up at the all-clear signal, leading his trio up the stairs, UMP tucked firmly into his shoulder and ready to fire.

He silently hoped that the second floor would have far fewer dead bodies than the first.

* * *

It took the seven almost an hour and a half to sweep the building. By the time it was finished, six of them had assembled on the roof as ordered, while John stayed behind on the fifth floor with a young man who'd been caught by a glancing blow and been left for dead. Only one other survivor had been found, a young woman saved by the bad food she'd had the night before as the invaders missed her in the communal bathroom when they'd gone through.

Breathing deeply air that didn't stink of burned flesh, ozone and death, Rob looked over the five people with him. Each one of them was as tired as he was, and just as relieved to be out of the dorm-turned-death-house. Wiping at his forehead between goggles and helmet, he mentally set himself for the next step of the attack.

"Alright, people. This place is secure for the time being. We need to evacuate the survivors and provide a flanking force for Alpha." He took an extra moment to look at the five in front of him. "Andrea, I want you to take John and Luke and evac the survivors. Take my van. Once they're with medical help, come back and reinforce Alpha."

With a nod, Andrea moved off with Luke in tow. That left Paul, Hannah and James. With a twitch of his lips that could have been an attempt at a smile, Rob issued the last of the new orders. "You three are the lucky buggers who get to come with me and attack a numerically superior enemy force head-on." His only answers were clips and firing chambers being checked as his companions prepared themselves. Rob followed suit, using the small window built into his UMP's clip to count the rounds remaining in it. Seeing twenty rounds stacked neatly, he mentally shrugged and counted his remaining clips, finding four of the twelve he'd had before deployment left. He could only assume the others were in similar shape after the running battle they'd endured.

The teams had run into some serious opposition as they moved through the third floor, forcing the young men and women of Delta team to fight almost doorway to doorway as they flushed out their quarry. In the end, the poor accuracy and tactics of the invaders had proven too much of a handicap for them to win. However, the fight they had put up was enough for the six-man death squad on the fourth and fifth floor to finish it's work in exterminating students. While Rob, Paul, James and Hannah had moved from doorway to doorway with their submachine guns, Luke and Andrea had offered ranged cover with their C7 and C8 respectfully. The battle had really turned when John had managed to catch the slowly retreating invaders from behind with his 870 after running down a floor and up a fire escape.

Two floors later, they'd found out why Epsilon team had never managed to rendezvous with them on the third floor when five still-smoking corpses were found guarding the stairwell door. The five had evidently been caught in a cross-fire while clearing the floor.

Shaking his head to ward off the thoughts of the recently finished battle, Rob lead his quartet down and out of the building. Sweeping around the exterior, they made sure that it was clear before moving into the main building, following the path Rob had taken earlier that day to find Dominic Upton.

Holding up a hand for silence and a stop, James tilted his head, trying to hear a transmission clearer. "It sounds like Beta and Gamma are hitting some strong resistance." He finally reported, summing up the calls he was hearing across the command frequency. "They're requesting that we hurry to reinforce Alpha's attack on the gate so that they can focus on their own survival."

Nodding, Rob took the last of the flash-bangs off his vest and cradled it in his left hand. His right hand aimed his UMP forward as the quartet moved forward. They came up toward the windowed area that looked out to the Stargate and bus loop. Gesturing the group into a small alcove just before they would wander into the kill zone, Rob gave a three count, pulled the pin on his flash-bang, and threw it towards the invaders using the window sill and pillars as cover.

With a loud bang and a blindingly brilliant flash of light, the grenade detonated, blinding and deafening everyone in a three metre direct line. James and Paul were first out, P90s up and firing, clearing out the most alert targets first. James ducked back into the small alcove to reload as Hannah and Rob came out, noting that James had ducked into the Mobile Learning offices for his reload, placing him in an position with plenty of cover.

Rob's UMP hammered out four two round bursts, sending down each of the four most vulnerable targets. Meanwhile, Hannah's MP5 spewed a long stream of 9mm rounds at the two invaders still standing, dropping them immediately. Turning, she and Rob emptied their clips on full automatic at the back of five more invaders. The luckless targets dropped like puppets with their strings cut, making things a little bit easier on Alpha team. The unlikely duo dodged out, ducking behind the concrete planters as they reloaded, covered by the steady fire from Paul emptying his fresh clip over their heads.

As Paul dropped back to reload, James moved out, loosing laser-aimed bursts at every target he could see.

Slapping the charging handle back down on his UMP, Rob raised himself on one knee and fired a single two round burst at one of the invaders that Alpha team couldn't hit. Both rounds slammed into the back of the man's head, shattering it like an overripe melon. Cringing slightly at the sight, he turned to loose another burst at the invader beside the dead man with the same effect.

The sudden attack from their flank sent the remaining twenty invaders into disarray as they tried to raise themselves up to fire on the force behind them without exposing themselves to their original attackers. As three more fell quickly, the remainder decided that the only way to survive would be to eliminate the small force behind them and regain the advantageous cover they'd had before. Moving fast, they began to charge at the quartet behind them.

"Oh, fucknut." Rob cursed as he flicked the fire selector to full automatic again and pulled the trigger, sweeping across the advancing targets. He hit three solidly before clicking dry. Dropping the submachine gun down on it's sling and drawing his USP, he flicked off the safety and lined up the sights on the chest of the nearest attacker. Double-tapping, he send his target reeling onto the ground before twisting and firing on the next.

By the time he'd fired all thirteen rounds and the slide locked open, the combined fire of his comrades and Alpha team had downed the invaders guarding the Stargate. Reloading first his pistol and then his submachine gun, Rob looked over the field of battle, looking to make sure it was secure.

Slowly, he raised his hand and waved quickly to the other team as he looked over his own people. Dusty, dirty and slightly anxious, they were amazingly still alive and in good health. An answering wave from Alpha's leader before he walked off towards an incoming ambulance caused Rob to smile. He knew that there had been casualties within Alpha, but they were secure and had nipped the invasion corridor in the bud. Durham College's Stargate was secure.

Then the inner ring started to spin...

* * *

The first thing to greet Samantha Carter on her arrival through the Stargate was an unfamiliar building behind a group of blue-clad and heavily armoured people mostly crouching behind concrete planters, with three standing in front of her. All of them were aiming an assortment of P90s, UMPs, MP5s, C7s, C8s, shotguns and pistols right at her. As the wormhole spit out the other three members of her team, her P90 was up and aiming at the bearded man standing directly in front of her. Holding a UMP, he was keeping the attached laser sight aimed directly for what seemed to be the hollow of her throat.

A moment later, all four members of SG-1 were being covered by at least two guns. The uneasy standoff broke as the man Carter was aiming for took one hand away from his weapon and held it up in a classic "hold fire" gesture. A moment later and his hand was back on the front grip of his weapon, the barrel having remained unerringly trained on it's target the whole time.

Clear enough that he could be understood, the bearded man broke the silence. "You might want to drop those guns, lady and gentlemen. We've got you covered and you'd be like fish in a barrel." Behind the four new arrivals, the Stargate closed off, emphasising the vulnerable position the group was in.

Hesitating for a brief moment, Carter's mind whirled with possible explanations for why they were facing Earth-made weaponry, being spoken to in clear English, and why they were outside again rather than being twenty-eight stories underground in a converted missile silo attached to Cheyenne mountain.

At first she thought that perhaps the gate had been rigged to send to a different destination. But the clear English lettering on the building in front of her and the weapons in the hands of the troops she faced made that idea suspect.

Then she thought about the possibility that SG-1 had been shoved into another reality – again. This theory lasted about as long as it took for her to realize that there was no conceivable way for the gate to send them to an alternate dimension, especially since they'd not gone anywhere near the super-gate black hole.

Finally she settled on the most logical, yet least desired conclusion – they were on Earth, and there was either yet ANOTHER Stargate present or the gate had been moved by unknown powers. Either way, she couldn't find any answers while weapons were pointed at them. Going with that idea, she unclipped her P90 and set it down on the ground in front of her. A moment later and her vest and holstered zat followed. Within a minute, all of SG-1 had followed her lead and piled their weapons and gear in front of the armed men.

Again, the bearded man took the lead. Stepping forward, he lowered his UMP to aim at the ground to in front of him, not quite aimed at them, but still ready to fire at a moment's notice. "Identify yourselves."

Well, that was a problem she could solve. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, United States Air Force." She gestured towards Mitchell. "Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell," She then pointed to Daniel and Teal'c, "Doctor Daniel Jackson, and the big guy is Teal'c."

Before she or their bearded captor spoke again, Mitchell shifted slightly, drawing attention his way. "How's about you tell us who the hell you are now?"

Smiling faintly at Mitchell's impatience, the bearded man shifted his UMP away from them fully, aiming it directly at the ground and sliding it to his side. "Lieutenant Robert Samuels, Royal Canadian Air Force Reserve."

Knowing that there was no sense in trying to keep the US possession of a Stargate secret from the group that held them, Mitchell asked the question that was on the mind of his team's American personnel. "What the hell is Canada doing in control of a Stargate?"


	4. Per Ardua Ad Astra: The Word Goes Out

Author's Note: Apologies for my delay in posting this new chapter. Life has kept me rather busy. If anyone spots errors in this story, especially to do with the RCAF or the Canadian Forces in general, please let me know. There's an embarrasing lack of information on a fair amount of the more routine things to do with my nation's military. As usual, any errors are mine as this is unbeta'd.

**The Word Goes Out**

An hour and a half later, Rob, James, Andrea, Carter, Mitchell and Daniel were seated around one of the tables above the mess that was the Learning Commons, digesting the informal debriefing they'd given each other. They had left the rest of Delta team to guard the Stargate with Teal'c while the survivors of Alpha, Beta and Gamma swept the rest of the campus, checking for any holdouts from the recent battle and slowly bringing the dead to the waiting ambulances.

As dirty and tired as they were, the two USAF officers immediately understood the importance of how the new Stargate had appeared on Earth, Carter more so than Mitchell. After all, she'd seen a Stargate beamed straight out of Cheyenne Mountain once before. A quick phone call using a very cryptic phrasing had alerted the SGC to the possible presence of an Ori vessel in orbit.

The orbital threat taken care of, Mitchell looked at Rob, silently wondering how someone still in college could end up being stuck with commanding the defense of such a strategically important site. Rather than voicing it as such, he instead spoke up with a different, but no less relevant question. "What's the RCAF going to do with that thing?"

Sighing, Rob leaned back in his chair, wishing he had some way to communicate with his superiors. However, because of the rather unsecured nature of the radios, phones, and cell phones available, none of the military personnel felt it safe. "At the moment, we're going to secure it here and maintain a defensive posture with the assistance of Durham Regional Police and the ad hoc First Durham Volunteers." He grimaced slightly at the quick name he'd given the six people who'd fought at his side earlier that day for sheer lack of anything else to call them. "Once I've managed to get in contact with my superiors, the force allocation will change, as well as possibly our posture towards the gate."

Mitchell nodded. "Alright. You'll have the full support of SG-1 and the SGC until such time as an adequate force from the Canadian Forces arrive to relieve us."

With a slightly unhappy look, Rob nodded. "I appreciate that, Colonel." Hesitating slightly, Rob forged ahead with the only solution he could think of to the communication dilemma. "I'd also appreciate it if you would assume command of the defenses here. I need to inform my superiors immediately of what's been going on here. Mister McCallister would act as operational commander of the First Durham Volunteers in my place."

Without hesitation, Carter, Mitchell and James nodded. "Agreed," Mitchell finalized. "Why don't you take Carter and Jackson with you? They're the foremost experts on the gate and it's history on Earth, as well as what's out there." A vague gesture towards the sky accompanied the last few words.

Standing without another word, Rob grabbed his UMP from where it was sitting against the wall, handing James, Mitchell, Carter and Daniel their P90s. Everyone already had their pistols and zats holstered and vests on, so they walked out, heading for where Teal'c was waiting among the guards at the Stargate.

As the small group went to head out the doors, Rob gestured towards the older officer who'd lead Alpha in the attack and interrogated him earlier in the day. With a rueful smile, Rob realized that he'd forgotten the man's name – again. So rather than directly ask the man his name again, he leaned over towards James. "What's the cop's name again?"

Amused, James leaned in just as conspiratorially. "Lieutenant Damien Redburn. Odd of you to forget the name of someone you nearly slugged."

Nodding, Rob broke off and walked over to Redburn. "Hey, Lieutenant. Need to ask a favour of you." Fully aware that Rob had never remembered his name without help, Redburn simply made a "let's hear it" gesture towards the younger man. "I need to borrow one of your unmarked SUVs."

It didn't take the experienced officer more than a moment to reason out why the younger man was asking for the vehicle. With his own vehicle abused by doing things it was never designed for, Rob had to make a trip he didn't feel confident taking the minivan on – especially with the plasma burns creasing the sides. Rather than talk any further, he simply tossed the younger man the keys to his assigned vehicle, pointed towards the campus pub, and started settling Alpha into defensive positions.

Gesturing for Carter and Jackson to follow him, Rob left for where Redburn had left his rather nice Jeep Grand Cherokee.

While Rob, Carter and Jackson were heading for CFB Trenton, Mitchell was quickly beginning the chore of trying to properly report in to the SGC. After a few failed attempts to use the radio they deployed with, he was lucky enough to have his signal caught by the _Odyssey_, recently launched to investigate a radar shadow they'd found in orbit almost directly over Durham College.

When Colonel Paul Emmerson, _Odyssey_'s commander, answered him, Mitchell could have sworn he'd faint from relief. "Colonel, it's good to hear your voice. We've got a situation down here. Somehow, a force I suspect to be the Ori have managed to drop a gate directly into the middle of a college in Ontario, Canada."

Even though the signal was slightly scratchy, Mitchell could hear the "oh, shit" tone in Emmerson's voice. "You're telling me that you believe the Ori managed to drop a Stargate onto Earth without being detected?"

Even though the other officer couldn't see him, Mitchell shrugged as he walked out to join the rest of the personnel left behind to secure the gate. "I don't know about the undetected part, but I'm staring at the gate right now." As if to demonstrate his point, Mitchell began walking towards the gate.

"That's just wonderful. Is it secure?"

Mitchell had to wince slightly at the question. "It's secure, sir, but it's currently under join control of the RCAF and Durham Regional Police. We've only got twenty men or so to defend it at this moment, and lack an iris device to seal it off."

Mitchell could almost hear the gears turning in orbit. "Understood, Colonel. Is there anything _Odyssey_ can do to assist you at this time?"

It only took Mitchell a moment to observe the weapons mix at the defender's disposal. "If you've got a couple of squads of marines with a few M60s and M249s and a bunch of claymores and C4 you can beam down, it would go a long way to keeping this end secure."

The reply from orbit was instantaneous. "You've got it, Mitchell. Anything else before I patch you through to Landry?"

"Nope, that's about it for now, Colonel. Thanks for your help." Ignoring Emmerson signing off, Mitchell began inspecting the base of the Stargate, wondering if it was possible for them to blow the base and bury the gate enough that it couldn't be dialed.

His thoughts were interrupted when a new voice came through his headset, this time belonging to General Hank Landry, the commanding officer of the SGC. "Colonel Mitchell, what's the situation where you are?"

Grimacing, Mitchell quickly gave a short run-down on what he knew had happened. When he'd finished, Landry was silent for a moment before replying. "Understood, Colonel. I'm going to contact the Pentagon and the President, get the ball rolling on informing the Canadians about things since I take it that whomever the on-scene commander from the RCAF wasn't able to use secure communications to do so."

With a sour look and tone, Mitchell gave Landry what he felt made things even worse. "It's worse than that, sir. The 'on-scene' commander from the RCAF was a shave-tail reserve lieutenant who couldn't have been more than twenty-five. At the moment, he's on the road for his base to start the ball rolling. I sent Carter and Jackson with him to offer their knowledge of the gate and whatnot."

Mitchell could clearly hear the disdain in his commander's voice throughout his next transmission. "What the hell kind of operation are they running there?"

"General, this place was a college a few hours ago." Mitchell sighed. "Sir, most of the force used to retake the facility was comprised of cops. There were only three Canadian Forces reservists and one cadet."

The silence on the other end of the line lasted long enough that Mitchell began to wonder if the signal had been lost, but eventually Landry came back. "I'll contact you later for a full report. _Odyssey_ will transport down your reinforcements shortly, along with a proper secure radio. We'll talk more then."

Mentally grumbling when he saw the clock on the Jeep's radio click over to 1800 hours, Rob doggedly fought his way through rush hour traffic on the 401, wishing again that he hadn't been forced to divert from CFB Trenton, his usual base. The moment he'd started to speak to his commanding officer, the man had handed him orders to proceed directly to CFB Kingston and report to a Brigadier General North.

En route, Rob had been forced to make a stop to speak with the Commandant of RMCC to explain why Andrea would not be available to attend classes for the foreseeable future. The man in question, a brigadier general, had been justifiably upset at the flimsy amount of information Rob was able to offer. Privately, the young reservist suspected part of the Commandant's pique was that he had brazenly walked into the school wearing the police issue tactical gear with two pistols and not even the suggestion of a proper uniform underneath.

On arrival at CFB Kingston, the trio had met with the general, and subsequently been ordered to report to CFB Ottawa to meet with the Armed Forces Council. Above all else, this had him concerned. Of course, it didn't help that he was still in combat gear over civilian clothes, with the only concession to a long drive being that he'd removed his helmet and UMP, placing them in the back of the SUV.

Growing even more frustrated as a compact import suddenly cut him off, Rob took what pleasure he could from viciously pulling the holster for his Beretta off his belt, tossing the holstered gun firmly into the little hold-all slot between himself and Carter. Wiggling slightly, he settled back, somehow calmed greatly by the removal of the sharp jabbing from his spine.

Amused, Carter looked over at him, having taken the time to make sure her gear wouldn't do the same thing to her on the three hour trip to Ottawa. "I'm surprised that thing stayed put as long as it did. Holsters at the small of your back are notoriously uncomfortable when sitting for long periods of time."

Grunting, Rob slammed the brakes for a moment before swerving to the left to clear away from an overly aggressive transport that hadn't judged his distances properly. Swearing softly, he settled down to the slow drive, occasionally playing with the radio, trying to keep something worth listening to on.

Finally, he broke down and pulled out his cell phone to give his parents a short heads-up that he wouldn't be home anytime soon.

As the trio came up to the gate for CFB Ottawa at 2100 hours, all three occupants of the Jeep were getting ready to scream if they ended up delayed much longer. While Rob was no stranger to the drive, he had never been forced to make it in rush hour traffic with as many stops before, especially in a vehicle that wasn't his.

Pulling out his ID card folder from it's home in his back pocket, he showed it to the army sergeant manning the gate. The man quickly looked it over, then visibly jumped as he saw that both of the front seats were occupied by armed individuals, one of whom had a P90 resting on her leg. "Uh, sir, I'm going to have to see some papers for those weapons."

Rolling his eyes, Rob held up his ID a little higher. "That should be all you need, Sergeant. I'm under orders to take Colonel Carter and Captain Jackson," he fibbed a bit to avoid having to explain why a civilian was carrying military issue guns, "of the USAF to a highly classified meeting with the AFC."

Not overly impressed, the sergeant stood his ground. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't allow you to pass with those weapons."

Trying not to vent his frustrations with life on a guard who was only doing his duty, Rob took a three-count to breathe before attempting to argue again. That three-count was enough for another soldier to walk up and pull the guard aside. The brief chat lasted less than a minute, but Rob heard no less than three "yes, sir"s out of the guard.

Conversation over with, the guard raised the barrier, waving the Jeep and the Chrysler sedan that had pulled behind it to the base proper. Checking sign posts and guides, he carefully drove to the main command post, parking in the visitors area.

Climbing out, he stuffed the Beretta back onto his belt and waved at Jackson and Carter. "Leave the P90s in back with my UMP. We're not going to need that kind of firepower in here. Pistols are fine." Thankfully, Carter had possessed the foresight to trade her zat for Mitchell's Beretta before leaving Durham.

Shrugging, they both cleared their P90s and placed them loaded and safetied with clear chambers with his UMP and settled in, following the Canadian officer as he went up to a guard to be escorted to the meeting room. The non-standard issue gear all three wore garnered a few strange looks, but nothing was made of it beyond simple curiosity.

When they walked into the briefing room, Carter and Jackson seated themselves to either side of the one end of the table, where the end chair was removed to allow for easier viewing of the screen used during briefings and presentations like this one. Only one other seat remained open. It was the one placed at the head of the table, a spot where Rob never dreamed of sitting as it was reserved for the Chief of Defense Staff.

A moment later, an older man in a perfectly fitting army dress uniform arrived, four maple leaves adorning his collar boards. Eyes widening slightly, Rob snapped to attention and saluted when the man turned to him. Crisply returning the young lieutenant's salute, the general gave him a once over. "You're out of uniform, son."

Feeling like he'd been called onto the carpet at school, Rob swallowed quickly. "Sir, yes sir. The demands of the situation never afforded me the time to return home and take my uniforms out of storage, sir."

Nodding with a gentle smile, the chief of defense staff decided to overlook the rather minor transgression. "Once you're finished your section of the brief, head over to the quartermasters and draw a dress uniform as well as a set of fatigues and boots."

"Aye, sir." With that, the general left to take his seat. Once he'd settled in, a raised hand and a slight twitch of his fingers were enough to let Rob know when to begin.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Lieutenant Robert Samuels, RCAF Reserve. With me is Lieutenant Colonel Doctor Samantha Carter, United States Air Force, and Doctor Daniel Jackson, a civilian consultant to the USAF. The following briefing has been classified Top Secret.

"Allow me to introduce to you the event that has placed Canada firmly alongside the United States in a war that most of the planet doesn't know existed."

Four hours later, freshly showered, shaved and beard trimmed, Rob stood in dress uniform with his expert marksman medals on left breast, gold wings across the top. Unseen at the small of his back was the Beretta he'd been given earlier that day. His body armour and USP had been stashed in the Jeep with the rest of the group's weapons.

The emergency briefing had just broken up. Rob had been ordered to take Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson to the BOQ, where they would be issued two rooms – one for the colonel, the other for Daniel and Rob. Before he could finish carrying out that order, the CDS gestured for him to come over. Nodding to his two companions, Rob took the few steps over to the general's side, standing at attention.

"Lieutenant, I didn't want to put you on the spot in front of the rest of the AFC, but I think you deserve to know that we were all impressed with your handling of the situation earlier today." Giving the younger man the moment to modestly handle the complement, he continued. "The biggest question I have is what do we do with your volunteer force."

Fidgeting slightly, Rob tried to think of a proper response. "Well, sir, that would depend on what we're going to do with the Stargate and the war we've been thrust into."

Nodding, the general gestured for Rob to sit down in the chair beside him. Doing his best to sit at attention, Rob patiently waited for his superior to continue. "At the moment, we are going to be welding a permanent iris device over the gate to prevent any more surprises. After that, it will either be stored at a secure base here in Canada or more likely turned over to the US Air Force.

"More relevant, however, is the offer to have a Canadian Forces team or three attached to the American SGC. Interested, Lieutenant?"

Wondering where a hidden catch might be, Rob nodded once. "Yes, sir."

"I'm glad to hear that, son, because we're about to offer direct commissions to your entire volunteer force – reservist, cadet, or civilian – then assign them to the SGC as SG-21."

Unable to properly hide his shock, Rob's eyes went wide again. "I must confess, sir, I like the idea, and I suspect that most of the others will as well."

Smiling, the senior man slid a piece of paper across to his junior. "That's the proposed makeup of

SG-21 at this time, based on the research we were able to accomplish during your trip up here.. Do you see any reason to change the ranks and tentative specialties listed?"

Rob took the sheet and gave it a quick skim, then a further, closer look.

**Personnel Roster – Canadian Forces Special Detachment 21**

**Capt. Robert Samuels RCAFCommanding Officer**

**Lt. James McCallister RCAFSecond in Command/Demolitions**

**1st Lt. Jennifer Hailey USAFScience Advisor/USAF Liaison**

**Lt. Paul Janson RCAAssault Specialist**

**2Lt. Luke Mallard RCASniper/Spotter**

**2Lt. Andrea Grace RCASniper/Scout**

**2Lt. Hannah KennedyRCAScout**

**2Lt. Johnathan LoranRCAFLinguist/Diplomatic Relations Officer**

Looking up, Rob gave the general a questioning look. "The only thing I can see that's obviously incorrect is my rank, sir."

Shaking his head, the general slid a second piece of paper over to the younger man. "Effective two years ago, you were detached and honourably discharged from the reserves for the purpose of commissioning as a Lieutenant, Royal Canadian Air Force. Assuming that everyone on the list agrees, their commissions at Second Lieutenant will be effective at the same time. Effective two weeks ago, you were promoted to Captain, RCAF, while McCallister and Janson were promoted to Lieutenant."

A little shocked, and very much running on adrenaline, Rob nodded again, barely managing to form a coherent response. "Understood, sir." Frowning, he looked at the third name in the list, it's presence finally forcing it's way through his tired mind. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, why is there a USAF lieutenant in a Canadian Forces detachment?"

"Colonel Carter can explain her qualifications to you in more detail later. Sufficed to say Lieutenant Hailey is a highly capable officer already well acquainted with the SGC."

With a nod, Rob asked the next question in his mind. "Sir, may I ask how this was decided?"

"While you were on your way up here, some very high-level talks went on. Our governments decided that this was the answer to the issue at hand. The AFC decided just before your briefing that rather than spreading this information around farther than we have to, we should not only use the experience you and your team already possess, but provide greater security by lowering the need to know."

"Yes, sir." Rob stood up, feeling drained. "By your leave, sir?"

Rising as well, the general extended his hand to the younger man. "Of course, Captain. Report to me at HQ no later than 0930 tomorrow. Ask Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson to join you for our meeting."

Shaking the General's hand, he snapped to attention, executed a smart about face, and walked back to where Carter and Daniel stood with the trio's guard/guide. "Let's get you a few things from the quartermasters and head to the BOQ."

Along the way, he drew out his cell phone and dialed home, trying to figure out how to explain everything to his parents without giving away classified information.

A fifteen minute long conversation saw Rob finally walking into the quartermasters again after having explained to his parents about the "suspected terrorist"attack he'd been caught in. He went on to further explain that because of some classified information divulged by the attackers, he had been called to active duty and was being deployed to join a team working on the project mentioned.

Grabbing some essentials – shampoo, soap, a towel, clean socks and boxers, toothbrush and paste, etc – he gestured for one of the noncoms to come over. "I need a female Air Force officer's uniform, rank of Lieutenant Colonel, with medals as specified by the colonel here. If you can quickly get your hands on a US one, that would be preferred, however a Canadian one with equivalent medals will suffice if you can't."

Nodding quickly, the noncom produced a notepad and quickly took down the list of awards Carter was due. When finished, she turned back to Rob and Daniel. "Anything else, sir?"

"Yeah. I need an Air Force dress uniform for Doctor Jackson here, no rank, no medals, no special insignia." He paused, then sheepishly withdrew his promotion order. "I'm also going to need a new dress uniform jacket and rank bar for fatigues."

Nodding, the noncom – a master corporal, Rob belatedly noticed – took the three over to a rack of dress uniforms. Looking over the two men with a critical eye, she quickly grabbed two jackets, handing each man one before turning to the stacks of shirts, grabbing one for each. They quickly tried the jackets on, finding that they fit nicely. Neither man bothered to question her on the shirts as Rob handed Daniel a tie.

By the time Rob had finished finding the proper shoulder boards for his shirt, Carter was standing with her new uniform in a dry cleaning bag. Pointing towards the counter, she aimed Daniel towards the men's clothing while Rob signed for the garments and toiletries.

They walked outside to find their guard/guide waiting for them, an Iltis jeep beside him. Coming to attention, he gestured towards the vehicle. "Sirs, Ma'am, if you'll climb in, I'll take you to Transient Officers' Quarters."

Shaking his head, Rob walked over to the SUV he'd borrowed from Redburn. "I'll follow you, Corporal."

Shrugging at the slightly bewildered soldier, Daniel quickly followed Rob, Carter only a moment behind him. Once all three were fully seated, Rob gestured for the soldier in the Iltis to proceed.

After calling to check up on his little volunteer force and sleeping for five hours, Rob felt refreshed enough to be facing the Chief of Defense Staff again. Freshly dressed in his brand new captain's uniform, coffee cup in hand, he lead Carter and Daniel into RCAF headquarters. Behind him, he knew Daniel was nursing his even larger cup of coffee, where Carter had ditched her cup before walking in.

Glancing back at her as she saw how many of the personnel around had cups of coffee from what must have seemed Canada's answer to Starbucks, Rob guessed that she must have been annoyed with herself for not taking the time to enjoy it. Standing before the door they'd been guided to, he checked his tie with one hand before draining his coffee and tossing the paper cup in the nearby garbage can. Rapping twice on the door jam, he was waved in by the CDS's aide.

Standing loosely at attention, Rob addressed the man. "Captain Samuels escorting Lieutenant Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson to see the general."

Smiling slightly, the other captain looked him over once before giving Carter a slower and far more interested look as he pressed the page button on the intercom. "Send them in, Captain." blared out before the man could even tell his commanding officer who was there. Waving, he sent them on in.

This time, Carter lead the trio. Standing directly in front of the general's desk, she snapped to attention, waiting for a brief moment to let Rob do the same to her right. To her left, Daniel stood respectfully straight, not bothered by the formalities of military protocol.

Standing from where he'd been reading over a report, the general smiled. "At ease, Colonel, Captain. Thank you for coming. Doctor Jackson, a pleasure to see you again."

The three seated themselves after uttering their own greetings. "Business first, I'm afraid. After a nearly all-night session in discussion with the Prime Minister, the Defense Minister, Governor-General, the AFC, the US Joint Chiefs and General O'Neill of the US Department of Homeworld Security, it has been decided to permanently iris the Stargate at Durham College and ship it to Colorado to remain under the supervision of Stargate Command.

"On the same thread, Colonel Mitchell has reported that the advance elements of the Royal Canadian Dragoons "A" Squadron have arrived and relieved Durham Regional Police and First Durham Volunteers from guard duties. As well, they've brought in secure comm gear which has allowed Colonel Mitchell to report in to Stargate Command. Two of your SG teams have been deployed with our troops to provide extra firepower and stability in case of another Stargate incursion. A message from General Landry reported that the _Odyssey_ will be retaking stationary orbit shortly to provide extra support.

"At the moment, Colonel Mitchell is still in operational command of the joint forces present. Once Colonel Gardner arrives with the bulk of the RCD, he'll take command until the Stargate is removed. Upon his arrival, the _Odyssey_ will... 'beam' SG-1 back to Cheyenne Mountain."

Reaching back to a folder on his desk, the general handed Rob a file. "That's the current roster of troops that will be deployed to the SGC with Special Detachment 21. Look it over, and if you think we're missing anything, let me know."

Flipping open the cover, Rob scanned the list of names until he found the changes. Looking closely, he saw:

**Personnel Roster – Canadian Forces Special Detachment 21**

**Front Line Personnel**

**Capt. Robert Samuels RCAFCommanding Officer**

**Lt. James McCallister RCAFSecond in Command/Demolitions**

**1st Lt. Jennifer Hailey USAFScience Advisor/USAF Liaison**

**Lt. Paul Janson RCAAssault Specialist**

**2Lt. Luke Mallard RCASniper/Spotter**

**2Lt. Andrea Grace RCASniper/Scout**

**2Lt. Hannah KennedyRCASpotter/Scout**

**2Lt. Johnathan LoranRCAFLinguist/Diplomatic Relations Officer**

**Support Personnel**

**Capt. Stephanie HendersonRCAFHeadquarters Liaison**

**Capt. Jason FitzgeraldRCAFDoctor**

**Lt. Matilda FranklynRCANurse**

**Lt. Elizabeth JenkinsRCANurse**

**MWO Arthur RitterRCAMaster Armourer**

**PO 1 Josephine MayhewRCNCommunications Specialist**

**WO Matthew Van Der VerdeRCAFQuartermaster**

**MCpl Jerald GoldmanRCACombat Medic**

**MCpl Linda HuRCACombat Medic**

**Cpl Amanda WilliamsRCAFYeoman/Aide**

Closing the folder slightly, Rob looked up at the expectant general. "Nothing comes to mind right now, sir." Opening it again, he flipped past the personnel list. The next piece of paper was a table of equipment. Again, it merited a moment's close examination.

Looking up again, Rob had to suppress the urge to whistle. "That's a lot of ordinance to send us with, General. Almost looks like James handed you a shopping list of toys."

Chuckling slightly, the general nodded. "That list was made in conjunction with your troops last night and this morning. They've all accepted already, by the way. After looking it over, I'm inclined to approve every weapon requested to allow you full versatility in missions and mission postures to suit the situation. It will also let you each customize your own loads to suit your abilities and fighting styles."

After having looked over the weapons, Rob gave the other gear a fast once-over. He saw the normal armour vests, helmets, NVGs, field kits, etc. – the usual kind of things that Canadian troops being deployed in the field would carry. "Understood, sir. Pending consultation with the rest of SG-21, I can't think of anything else we'll need."

Shuffling papers on his desk, the general brought up a small stack of forms and handed it and a pen to the freshly promoted captain. "One last bit of official paperwork. You need to sign for back pay and the enlistment forms. You will be paid as if you've been on active duty since you enlistment date, but have used your leave. Make sure that there aren't any mistakes, just in case we didn't transfer everything from your reserve records properly."

"Yes, sir." Lifting the first form slightly, Rob had to suppress a whistle at the large pay cheque he'd be receiving in a day's time. Looking over the deposit information, he verified it was accurate and signed to acknowledge the transfer. Once that was out of the way, he began going through all the the new enlistment forms.

As he read each section and signed or initialled as appropriate, he noted that the general had engaged Jackson and Carter in a discussion about off-world allies. By the time Jackson had finished describing the various encounters with the Free Jaffa Nation, Rob had finished signing his life away. Handing the papers back to the general, he sat back and shifted slightly, changing the angle of the Beretta at the small of his back.

"Alright, Captain. That clears that up." The general typed a short string into his computer before looking back at the three in front of him. "Now for something of a slightly more enjoyable nature." At that moment, the office door opened again and two Air Force lieutenant generals walked in. Coming to attention briefly, they greeted the CDS.

The only one of the two wearing wings pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and cleared his throat. "Attention on deck!" Out of ingrained Pavlovian reflex, Carter and Rob snapped to attention, facing the slightly more junior general. "Captain Robert Samuels, front and centre."

With a firmly schooled poker face, Rob took four perfectly measured steps to place him the proper pace away from the general. Once the junior officer had stopped, the lieutenant general continued. "Captain Samuels, for your heroism and valour in commanding 1 Durham Volunteer Platoon on 13 September 2006 defending Canada and this planet against the invasion of a force known as the Ori, you are hereby awarded the Star of Military Valour."

Opening the box that Rob had never noticed him carrying, the silent Lieutenant General held it so that the one who'd spoken could take the the medal and it's short ribbon out. Walking over with measured steps, the senior man carefully pinned the medal to the left breast of Rob's uniform before taking the official citation and medal box and handing them to him with his left hand. Instinctively, Rob took the proffered items with his left hand while meeting the general's extended right hand with his own. A firm shake later and they both took one step back, standing at attention before the senior man turned and nodded towards the CDS.

"Thank you, General. Captain, congratulations. That and the medals for your platoon were rushed through early this morning, along with the official commissioning and decommissioning of your platoon." Taking one final piece of paper off his desk, the CDS handed it to the now thoroughly stunned captain. "You and your detachment have two weeks to report to CFB Petawawa for a six week intensive weapons and physical training course to refresh skills and bring you all back into top shape. On arrival, you are to report to Lieutenant Colonel Reginald Anderson. He's going to oversee the process. Master Warrant Officer Ritter will be making sure you're all highly skilled at not only firing your weapons, but maintaining them as well. Enjoy."


	5. Per Ardua Ad Astra: Begin the Journey

Author's Note: This chapter has undergone more revisions for small details than any other I have written. I'm also not too happy with the writing of the start to Jen Hailey's backstory, but I couldn't find any better way to handle this overall story set detail. Any suggestions are as welcome as ever. I'll try to have the next chapter up by the end of the weekend. Once _Per Ardua Ad Astra_ is finished, however, updates will not resume until the new year unless I get a sudden burst of time to keep going on writing the next part to the series, _Facta Non Verba_.(Deeds not Words - Motto of JTF2, Canadian Forces)

**Begin the Journey**

(Two months later)

Wearing his undress blues with winter trench coat on, Captain Robert Samuels looked around one final time, checking that everything he and his passengers would be carrying with them to Colorado was packed securely in either the back of his new Dodge Durango or the U-Haul trailer hitched to it. Deciding that everything was packed, he double-checked the hitch mount, backup chains and tail light wires. Once finished, he turned and walked over to where the rest of his team was standing.

"Alright, people. We've trained hard and now it's time to go put that training to use. We're due at the SGC in one week's time. Ideally, we should be in Colorado Springs a couple of days early." He paused long enough to salute a passing major before resuming. "So, any last minute things you need to get done, do them now. Otherwise, saddle up and let's head out."

They split up into two smaller groups, James, Andrea, Luke and Jennifer Hailey heading over to Rob's Durango while Paul, John and Hannah went for Paul's Dodge Dakota. It also mounted a hitched up U-Haul, carrying the bulk of the trio's worldly goods – those that didn't fit into the back of the pickup. Both vehicles were less than a year old, purchased by their owners with this trip in mind. They both had powerful engines with four wheel drive and more than a few other features, ready for whatever the long trek would toss at them.

Being as thin as they were, James and Andrea settled into the back bench seat, where Rob knew they'd be asleep for a large portion of the trip. Luke claimed the middle seat, garnering himself the responsibility to watch the two coolers Rob had packed with drinks and food. They had been strapped in, but Rob wasn't one to take chances – especially with the group's sustenance.

With him driving, the only seat available for the enigma that was his team's eighth member was the passenger seat to his right. Jennifer Hailey had arrived at CFB Petawawa for the last two weeks of the team's training regimen, both to brief them on the various alien technologies and weaponry they'd encounter and to train with them and begin molding the eight individuals into a single cohesive entity.

Depending on who was asked, a different answer was received regarding the success of the latter objective. Jen seemed to get along well enough with the four people she was with at the moment, but was often standoffish to the rest of her team. On one occasion she had made a bit of a connection with Hannah on a "girls' night out", but there seemed to be little evidence of that the next day.

This small issue was what had driven Rob to make the uneven split between the vehicles for the trip more than anything. True, it gave him a second driver capable of handling the SUV with a trailer in the same vehicle, but it also saved strained nerves from half his team.

Exercising "driver's prerogative", Rob set the radio to a mixed music station and set off. After the first half hour passed with nary a word passed between his passengers, he finally decided to take a stab at truly getting to know Jennifer Hailey.

Turning down the radio slightly – he couldn't stand the song anyway – Rob glanced over at Jen. "So, Jen, where do you hail from originally?"

Raising her head from the science journal she was reading, Jen gave him an ambiguous look. "I was born in Maryland, sir." Her tone was a hair cold quite formal, much to Rob's dismay.

"Y'know, we're in an off-duty situation, Jen. I've told you before I'd rather just be called Rob than 'sir' when we're not on base and or not on duty." He quirked an eyebrow, puzzling over the young woman's attitude.

Her next reply was just as bad as the first. "Respectfully, sir, I'd rather not be that informal." Without letting him say anything else, she went back to her magazine, opened to an article on current efforts to design a practical fusion reactor.

Glaring at the road ahead, Rob brooded for a moment, trying to figure out a way to crack through the scientists attitude. Finally, he decided to meet things the way he preferred – head-on. "Alright, Lieutenant, what's your problem with us, anyway? Speak freely."

For the first time since she'd shown up at Petawawa, Jen looked pissed. "To be blunt – you and SG-21 are a joke. Not an ounce of military discipline, you run the unit more by committee than anything else. The only time I've ever seen anything resembling a group that would do well in the SGC is when you're in combat."

Making a snap decision, Rob pulled into the nearby highway rest stop. Putting the vehicle in park, he turned and faced the still angered Jen. "We may not be nearly as strict on military discipline as the rest of your SG units, but I can guarantee you right now that the only person I would have to hesitate to say I trust with my life is you." Waving down a protest, he continued over her voice, fully aware that everyone else was watching the confrontation. "Of the group assigned to field work, only Paul, Hannah, and myself were in the military before the attack at Durham. Which means that I'm taking a team of civilians and molding them into a competent fighting force. With one rough spot ignored, we are a fully integrated unit.

"Our behaviour out of sight of superior officers lets us get to know each other even better. Gives us just that much more information to guess each other's actions and triggers with. I know that if we ran into something akin to the scenario with which SG-1 landed in during the so-called Broca virus, we'd not have held fire when they tried to rape Melosha. Not exactly the SGC's finest moment, was it?"

Rob didn't give her a chance to say anything, hammering home the point he was trying to make. "If you were stuck behind enemy lines, injured, whatever – the rest of SG-21 would not rest until you were back safely at the SGC. However, you've given us NO reason to believe that you'd do the same for the rest of us, Hailey."

Red-faced, Jen looked down at her hands, absently rubbing them together. Finally, she broke the silence. "You have a point, sir." She fiddled with her hands for a moment longer before continuing. "I won't say that this unit is anything like I was expecting when my turn for assignment to an SG team came up. To be honest, I never expected to be posted with a foreign unit populated by a bunch of eclectics."

Looking up and meeting Rob's eyes again, she continued, quietly. "I forgot that different isn't always bad. Sometimes, it's better. A good officer needs to be able to adapt to different environments and different units if they're going to be worthwhile to the armed forces."

Understanding her slightly hidden apology and promise to keep an open mind, Rob extended his right hand to her. Blinking once, Jen took a short moment to see the acceptance in his eyes before taking her superior's hand in hers. A firm handshake later sealed her commitment to SG-21.

Driving off again, Rob let Jen start to settle back to her magazine before grinning and glancing over at her. "So, does this mean we get to hear more about your past?"

Two days later, the miniature caravan had crossed into Kansas and was cruising SW along the interstate when Jen looked up from where she'd been playing a little game on her PDA. "Uh, Capt – I mean, Rob, would we be able to make a stop at my parent's house?"

Without a second of hesitation, Rob grabbed the small two way radio they used to keep in contact between the vehicles. "21-Beta, this is 21-Alpha. We're going to be making a detour to the Hailey family residence." When the simple acknowledgement came back, Rob set the radio down. "Guide us there, Jen."

Two hours later, the two vehicles pulled up outside a rambling, well maintained old farmhouse on the outskirts of Topeka, Kansas. Sliding the gearshift into park, Rob turned to Jen. "Since I'm assuming you'll be staying here for the night, I'll take the rest of our merry band of ladies and reprobates to a hotel in Topeka and get you in the morning."

"Actually, sir, if you four wouldn't mind, I'd like you to come with me." she commented, almost shyly – a new thing for the team to see in Jen.

Taking a silent vote, Rob shrugged. "I'm going to send Beta on ahead to that little town Paul has family in. We'll rendezvous with them in the morning." After doing that, he gestured for the others to go with Jen before making sure everything was secured in case of a storm – a real possibility in the plains.

Just before letting Jen knock, he pulled her aside. "What did you tell your parents you do, anyway?"

Jen smiled. "The usual Deep Space Radar Telemetry line." Nodding, Rob let her go and stood with the others, letting Jen go ahead and knock without being crowded.

The door was answered by a slightly heavy-set older woman with grey hair tied up in a loose bun. Her care-worn face lit up the moment she recognized her daughter. "Johnathan! Jennifer's home!" Wrapping her daughter up in a tight hug, she could be heard talking almost a mile a minute. "Oh, Jennifer, it's so good to see you. It's been absolute ages since you came to visit."

Taking a breath, Jen's mother looked up at the quartet that had patiently waited. "Oh, how rude of me! Come in, come in! You must be freezing standing there like that!" Stepping aside, she made little "hurry up" motions with her hand, ushering her daughter and guests inside.

Once the door was shut against the rising cold wind, she turned to Jen with an expectant look on her face. Waiting just long enough for a sturdily build man with distinguished grey hair to come close enough for a hug, Jen introduced her companions. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Captain Robert Samuels and Lieutenant James McCallister of the Royal Canadian Air Force and Lieutenants Luke Mallard and Andrea Grace, Royal Canadian Army." As she named each one, her hand rested on their shoulders. "Rob, James, Andrea, Luke; my parents Johnathan and Mary."

Waiting long enough for them to all shake hands, Jen continued, "Dad was in the Air Force for thirty years while mom was forever the loving, loyal camp follower." She grinned and wrapped an arm around her father. "This is the man that taught me how to shoot before I could even ride a bike."

Inclining his head respectfully, James replied, "Then we owe you a great debt of thanks for raising such a talented young woman, Mr. Hailey."

"You must be joking, young man," Mary huffed as she walked by, slapping her husband in the chest lovingly, "This great lump was in the air more than he was here teaching her the REALLY important things – like keeping men in line!"

Andrea and Jen laughed at the expressions on the faces of the three younger men. Before the four men could make a smart retort, Jen pushed Rob and Luke towards the coat hooks. "Before you boil, hang up your jackets, take off your boots, and go make yourselves comfortable in the living room."

Shrugging slightly, the four Canadians did as bidden, James and Andrea sitting down with Luke on the larger of the two couches, while Rob sat on the smaller. Johnathan sat in what seemed to be his customary chair. Jen disappeared into the kitchen with her mother, letting the guests talk with her father.

"So," the older man started, tapping down a pipe, "What do y'all do in the air force up there that draws my daughter into your project?"

Tensing subtly, Rob's mind whirled as he tried to find a plausible job for them all. "Well, sir, it's actually your daughter's command that draws us in. You know she's been working on Deep Space Radar Telemetry at Cheyenne, correct?" At the older man's thoughtful nod, Rob continued, "I'm an electronics engineer, assigned to help improve the equipment they work with and find ways to make the research practical. Andrea is the project liaison, meaning she's the one that keeps the rest of the Air Force off our back so that we can do our work."

Gesturing to James, Rob continued, "James is our 'legal eagle', making sure that we don't breech any international laws with our equipment use. He's also there to make sure that none of the researchers start to use the developing techniques for personal gain or any illegal activities. Luke, our resident Army rat -" Rob ignored the glare Luke sent his way, "- is here to provide grunt work and general lab assistance, as well as providing some of the security for the project."

A single look at the old man's eyes told Rob that he hadn't lied well enough to fully convince the man, but he allowed it to slide. "Enjoy your work?"

This time Andrea answered. "We haven't actually started on the project yet, but we all enjoy our time in the Canadian Forces."

The arrival of Jen and her mother with a tray of baked goods and a tray of juice, water, tea and coffee interrupted the polite interrogation. Making the rounds, Mary politely insisted on everyone taking something, even if it was just a small shortbread cookie and a glass of water. Once they finished, the two ladies set the trays on the table in the centre of the room. Although only Jen noticed, Mary deliberately placed herself by the second chair, leaving the only open spot beside Rob. Shooting her mother an evil look, Jen set her cup of coffee on the end table and comfortably placed herself beside her commanding officer.

Trying to keep her daughter from finding a way to change the seating arrangements, Mary turned towards the trio sitting on the couch. "So, tell me something about the area you came from. What's it like in Canada?"

Hours later, supper eaten, bags reluctantly brought in, the seven were sitting back in the living room, a small tray of dessert pastries in between them. Before sitting down again, Rob had taken the time to collect some wood with Johnathan and retrieve a cooler and box he'd buried under everything else. The box had contained a few bottles of well-aged Canadian Rye Whiskey, as well as a bottle of Bailey's. The cooler had contained an assortment of Canadian beer, ale and lager. Half the contents of the cooler were now residing in the fridge of the Hailey residence, a gift from the four guests. Likewise, a litre bottle of 24 year old Whiskey adorned the liqueur cabinet of the house.

Sipping at the last of a tumbler of whiskey poured from a second bottle, Johnathan sighed and turned to look at his wife. "Perhaps it's time for us to get to bed, my dear. I suspect these wonderful young people and our daughter will stay up as late as we do, despite having to drive for another long day."

"I do believe you're correct, Johnathan." Mary rose and beckoned to Luke, Andrea and James. "Come with me, dearies. I'll show you to the guest rooms." With a chorus of good night wishes, the trio of Canadians followed the sweet old lady, picking up their bags as they passed near the door.

Rob sat forward on the couch, looking between Johnathan and Jen with a puzzled expression. Jen met it with a look of sufferance, while Johnathan merely finished his whiskey and left for his room. Once the two young officers had heard the doors shut at the other end, Jen sighed and tossed off the last of the brandy she'd taken as an after-dinner treat. "Come on, Rob. You'll be in my room tonight."

Sputtering slightly, Rob looked at her, wondering what exactly she was meaning. Once his mental gears finally meshed again, he decided to try and relieve a bit of the sudden tension by cracking a joke. "Uh, Jen.. I know we've been getting along far better now than we did when we first met, but isn't this taking the relationship a little too far, too fast?"

With a rather unladylike snort and a glare at her boss, Jen walked over and grabbed her travel bag. "No call to be a smart-ass." She grabbed his bag and threw it at him as he approached, "My mother has decided that of the two available guys I 'brought home', you are the one she'd be happy with having become a son-in-law."

Grimacing, Rob followed the train of thought to it's logical conclusion. "And this is her way of telling us that, and hoping that we become better acquainted?" Jen's rolled eyes and glower were more than enough of an answer for the Canadian. Following his teammate, he saw the elegantly furnished room that Jen was leading to before he veered off towards the bathroom to change.

Five minutes later, after changing into a comfortable pair of cotton pants and a sleeveless shirt with the words "RCAF Rugby" across the chest, Rob knocked on the bedroom door twice, entering at Jen's call.

The two exchanged few words as Rob shut the door and placed his bag out of the way. Programming an alarm into his cell phone, he watched subtly as Jen climbed into bed, placing herself on the side farthest from the door. His never-voiced question answered, Rob set the phone down on the night table closest to the door and turned off the light before climbing into bed.

Careful to avoid all contact with his bedmate, Rob settled down near the edge of the mattress, leaving more than enough space for a third person to lay in between the two. Drawing on his experiences during the six week intensive training course, he slowly forced his mind to shut down and let him sleep, despite the uncomfortable nature of the arrangements.

He was jolted slightly as a playful voice floated over to him. "If you were any more tense, I'd think you weren't comfortable sharing a bed with a woman." Rob could almost imagine the smirk on Jennifer Hailey's face as she poked fun at her commander.

A half-hearted growl was the only reply she got before her small hand landed on his elbow, pulling him further onto the bed. "I don't bite, and I'm not going to try to rape you in your sleep." Rob thought he saw a playful expression on her face in the slightly moon-lit room. "I'll wait until you're awake in the morning and have my way with you then." With that matter of fact sounding declaration, she rolled over, placing her back to him and relaxed to sleep.

Laughing softly, Rob finally decided to treat the situation like he did back when he and the sister of one of his best friends shared a bed – ignore the other and just be comfortable. With that in mind, he was asleep within minutes.

In the next room over, Mary and Johnathan had just climbed into bed, cuddling together as they let sleep overtake them. "Mary, why do you insist on trying to fix our daughter up with every well-bred young man who passes through our house?"

With a loving smile, she patted her husband's cheek. "I want grandchildren, Johnathan. The sooner the better."

They were on the road again by 0930, heading west on I-70. Ideally, they would be in Colorado by sundown, and reporting in to Cheyenne Mountain not long after.

Mary and Johnathan had been somewhat disappointed to see the five go, as it was rare they had company, and even rarer that they saw their daughter. Rob and Jen both suspected that Mary was even more disappointed by the apparent lack of any further relationship forming between the two.

An hour and a half later, after stopping at Fort Riley to meet up with John, Paul and Hannah, James had handed a CD full of MP3s forward to Jen to play while Rob was busy wrestling with the steering wheel as wind gusts played with the SUV and trailer. After assigning it to play randomly, a old song came on, starting with what sounded like a flute piping out a small tune. The song display on the in-dash display listed it as "One Tin Soldier".

The light conversation James, Andrea and Jen had started up trickled away rapidly as they heard the opening lines begin. Even Luke looked up from his hand-held game. Rob only glanced at the others as the song played, but let his mind mull over the messages the song held while keeping them on the road.

As the final pipings died away three and a half minutes later, Rob turned down the volume as Metallica's "I Disappear" came on. No one seemed to be paying attention to the music.

James was the first one to speak. "Anyone else feel like that was directed at us?"

A few moments of silence greeted his question before Luke spoke up, never taking his eyes off a random spot on the back of Jen's seat. "I think it was a warning of the consequences of not thinking before doing."

Quietly, Andrea spoke up next. "Seems to me that it was more a way of saying no war is justified." Again, a contemplative silence broken only by the start of Linkin Park's "Breaking the Habit" fell on the occupants of the vehicle.

Voice slightly deeper than normal, Rob offered his thoughts next. "No war of conquest is justifiable. A war waged to protect the innocent from an evil will always be the only one worthwhile." The strength of conviction behind his words added to the thoughtful silence for awhile.

"Wouldn't the form of the war be written into history by the victors?" Jen suddenly asked, her quiet voice as loud as a gunshot in the quiet vehicle.

The simple comment, born of the undeniable truth that official history is written by the victors, brought everyone into the debate. Luke was the first to wade in with coherent thought. "Official histories may be written by the victor, but one cannot change the facts of what happens. Look at the Holocaust." Four thoughtful nods met his small pause.

"We have undeniable proof that it happened – why, I ask?" He turned slightly to face the passenger side to make it easier to look at James and Andrea as well as Jen. Rob was the only one of the four Luke didn't try to make eye contact with as he had to drive. "For the very simple reason that the Allies won that war. If Germany had won or achieved an armistice, I have no doubt that things would have been covered up, the Jews fully exterminated and all the death camps destroyed and erased from history as best they could."

Shaking his head, James jumped into the debate next. "If the Axis had won, we would not be standing here like this today. The Holocaust would literally 'not have happened'."

Luke was undeterred. "It would have been known. There would have been no way for them to cover up all the evidence."

The debate was paused once again as Jen weighed in with a simple observation of great consequence. "Would it have been believed?"

In the end the two vehicles stopped in at a roadside motel near Burlington, Colorado. A combination of incoming snowstorm and a jack-knifed transport truck closing off a fair portion of I-70 had lead to splitting the drive in two.

Net result, it was early afternoon when the two vehicles pulled up at the main gate to Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Station. The guard carefully checked the military issue ID of each person before waving them on in. Parking far from the entrance because of the still attached trailers, the eight members of SG-21 grabbed their dress uniform bags and equipment bags.

Each person's equipment bag contained three sets of fatigues, two in forest camouflage and one in arctic. The rest of their fatigues were already on base. The bag also held their armour vest, night vision goggles, binoculars, field mess kit, tactical radios and half a hundred other things they would use in the field. Each person had their choice of sidearm in a holster somewhere on their body, with two spare clips right nearby. Submachine guns, rifles, grenades and other equipment had already been delivered as part of a military shipment. Detachment 21's support personnel had arrived with the same shipment.

That left the front-line personnel to sign in and report to General Landry. After a twenty minute trip through the checkpoints heading for the SGC, a stop in the locker room to change into uniform – they went with dress uniform as they were just reporting in, weapons being left in the lockers – the team met in the conference room overlooking the Stargate. As commanding officer, Rob took it upon himself to give a quick once-over of everyone's uniform before walking to the door of Landry's office and rapping four times.

"Enter."

Opening the door smartly, Rob took a step inside, closed the door, stood a pace off from the general's desk and came to attention. "Captain Robert Samuels reporting with SG-21, sir."

Landry looked up from the report he'd been perusing and gave the young officer a good look. The neatly trimmed beard was the first thing to catch Landry's eye before he looked down, noting the Canadian Air Force uniform and the ribbon on top of the small fruit salad adorning the officer's chest below his wings. "Captain, welcome to the SGC. You're two days early. Anxious?"

"Somewhat, sir." Rob replied, carefully choosing his words as he was unsure of what the general was looking for. "Of more relevance, sir, is that this time will give my team time to start finding permanent lodgings."

Nodding, Landry took a basket of folders off his desk and pressed it into the younger man's chest. "You're going to need these. Now let's go meet your team." Landry wasted no time in walking out the door adjacent the conference room, Rob following closely. As he cleared the door, he snapped back to attention.

"Attention on deck!" As one, the seven seated members of SG-21 rose and stood at attention. Landry strode to the chair at the head of the table as the eight stood.

Pulling it out, the general gestured for them to be seated. "As you were. I'm General Landry, commanding officer of the SGC. For those of you new to the SGC, required uniform for SG teams is BDUs or equivalent unless otherwise stated. Since you're reporting in early, I'm going to give you some reports to read over and procedures to memorize for when you come on duty on Wednesday."

Gesturing to the box Rob had just set down to Landry's right as he sat, Jen across from him and James to his right, Landry continued. "You need to memorize your GDO codes, base computer access codes, as well as the gate address for Earth, the Alpha site, and three of the safe worlds. I also recommend that you memorize Dakara, and Cimmeria in addition to the worlds from the safe list.

"Dakara is home to the Free Jaffa Nation's council, and is a safe place for any SG team to head to should they lose their GDOs." Around the table, notes were being hastily tapped or written into PDAs drawn from pockets as the General had started.

"Cimmeria is an Asgard protected world that has strong ties to the SGC. It is also a planet where we've placed what is known as a throw-away GDO. It will transmit a one-time use code should you be stranded offworld. The Cimmerians themselves do not know of it's presence, as they are required to use the radios we've provided to communicate before trying to pass through to Earth."

Pausing just long enough to let the eight people he was talking to catch up with their notes, Landry plunged ahead. "SG-21 will begin off world training at 0900 hours Monday. Duty hours between now and then will be spent in familiarization with SGC issue equipment, as well as Goa'uld, Ancient, and Ori technology."

Raising a hand slightly, James spoke up at the general's nod. "Sir, will we be simply studying notes and reports on the subjects in question, or will we receive more hands-on training before going off world?"

Tapping the pile of folders with his right hand, Landry stood. "Details are in here. Until then, this conference room is yours until you sign off base and go find homes. Speak to Sergeant Harriman for on-base quarters." The eight didn't have time to more than rise halfway out of their chairs before Landry was back in his office.

Raising his eyebrows and tilting his head, Rob pursed his lips and sighed. "Interesting man we have as a boss, people." Frowning, he eyed the pile. "Let's split this crap up and start going through it. Note anything of vital importance and be ready to transfer your notes file to everyone else for review later today." With that, he split the stack of folders into seven approximately equal pieces. "Lieutenant Hailey, if you'd please stick around the base for awhile, we may need some assistance understanding this stuff."

Grabbing a few folders off each of the six piles Rob left for perusal, she sat back down. "Actually, sir, I'd best look over the things here as I've been working in the labs up until now." Nodding, Rob flipped open his first folder, prompting the others to do the same.


	6. Per Ardua Ad Astra: Nunquam licentia

Author's Note: Okay, I admit it. I had promised this thing to be finished before this year started, but I got dragged away far too often. Regardless, here it is now. Enjoy the remainder of Per Ardua Ad Astra and stay tuned for Facta Non Verba this summer.

__

_**Nunquam licentia a vir secundum **_

**(Never Leave a Man Behind)**

For the next two and a half hours, SG-21 read over procedures for SG teams off world in more situations than any of them – aside from Jen, who'd talked with SG-1 – thought were possible, technical notes and description for various alien spacecraft and weapons, cultural notes that must have been prepared by Doctor Jackson, and medical information relating to a host of wounds and diseases they might face.

Looking around as he reviewed the scheduled training in the next week and a half, Rob smiled faintly as he saw that while they were all engrossed in work, small eccentricities were already coming to light. James and Andrea were holding hands below table level as they took notes and flipped pages with their free dominant hands. Luke had resettled himself with one leg underneath his body, a position that he doubtless found more comfortable. Jen was idly tapping her pen against her chin as she tuned out the soft mutters coming from Paul. Hannah was fidgeting with her PDA stylus, working it between her fingers as she read. The only person who seemed to be doing nothing but read was John, but looking closer, Rob noticed that he was constantly bouncing his legs.

Deciding to stretch his legs a bit and give his eyes a quick rest, Rob wandered over towards the coffee pot in the corner of the room. Taking the pot out of the machine, he started to pour himself a cup as a klaxon started blaring just above his head. Splashing coffee on the table and floor, he slammed the pot back onto the burner as a man's voice came on the PA. "Unscheduled off world activation! Security teams to the gate room. General Landry to the control room. Repeat, unscheduled off world activation."

Pointing at Jen and James, Rob gestured for them to follow him as he followed a rapidly moving Landry down to the control room. Understanding his unvoiced order, the other five stood by the observation window and watched the iris slide shut.

At the main dialing computer, Master Sergeant Walter Harriman, a small bespectacled man with only a tiny fringe of white hair, looked up at the newly arrived officers. Ignoring the Canadian officers and not seeing Jen behind the two, he spoke directly to Landry. "Sir, we're receiving a radio transmission. It's SG-13."

Placing a hand on the transmit button, Landry opened up the channel. "This is General Landry. Report."

A wash of noise erupted from the speakers, the din of a battle joined between the guns of Earth and the plasma-based weaponry of the Ori foot soldiers. The explosion of grenades mixed into the general din as a lone voice cut over the top of it all. "General, this is Balinsky. We've got a whole load of Ori regulars swarming over us. SG-18 has been hit hard and is barely holding the line protecting the rest of the scientists. Colonel Dixon sent me to dial home and get some backup. We're going to need medics badly. At least three men down."

As Landry leaned in to try and get more information, Rob tapped James on the chest and jerked a thumb over his shoulder, silently telling him to alert the rest of the team. The young Canadian turned back in time to catch Balinsky's reply. "At least thirty enemies, General. We have no idea how they got here, but there could be many more."

"Understood. Take cover and standby for reinforcements. We're going to get you all out of there." Landry flicked off the radio, turning to Harriman. "What teams are available right now, Walter?"

With no hesitation, Harriman began reeling off the teams available. "SG teams 1, 2, and 5 are on base and ready to deploy within minutes. SG teams 11 and 15 are on downtime, and could be here and deployed within the hour."

Landry gave the senior enlisted man a look that plainly stated his thoughts on the matter. "Get SGs 1, 2, and 5 deployed immediately. Issue recall to 11 and 15 effective immediately." Landry turned and began to walk down towards the gate room.

Almost running, Rob caught the older man at the base of the control room stairs. "General, you've forgotten a team. SG-21 is ready for immediate deployment. Just say the word and you'll have eight well-trained troops with heavy weaponry ready to deploy with combat medics and doctors in support."

"Your team hasn't finished it's training, Captain. I can't deploy you on an off world mission like this until you're ready." Landry barely managed to turn before Rob fired right back.

"General, you've probably got something like twenty people out there who can't even fire a weapon, and no more than twenty soldiers to protect them with. Some of those soldiers and non-combatants are sure to be injured. You need all the manpower you can get, General. SG-21 can be of great help." Rob stood firm, knowing he'd nailed the general's biggest problem with an effective solution.

Growling softly, Landry placed a single finger in front of the younger man's chest. "Suit up. You deploy in seven minutes. Don't screw up." Nodding, Rob charged back into the control room.

Turning on the PA system, he quickly rapped out some orders. "Special Detachment 21 medical staff report to the locker room for emergency deployment. SG-21, report to the locker room, emergency combat deployment." Flicking off the PA, Rob ripped off his jacket, yanking the tie off his neck as he charged out of the control room, heading for the locker room, starting to shuck the rest of his dress uniform as he went. Jen was only a few strides behind him, starting to remove her uniform just as fast.

Three minutes later and SG-21 was grabbing it's rifles, submachine guns, and grenades from Master Warrant Officer Ritter. They were all dressed in forest camouflage, with ballistic sunglasses hanging from their necks. Each person had their sidearm of choice holstered on their right thigh – James reversed everything as the only left-handed person on the team – and ammo clips for the P90s hanging from their chests on the opposite thigh. Each person was grabbing for a C7A1/M203 or a C8A1/M203 and checking it over fast. Satisfied with his C7, Rob slammed a fresh clip into the receiver, quickly jacking a round into the breech. He left the safety on and moved to load a 40mm fragmentation grenade into the attached grenade launcher before making sure it was safe to carry.

Giving SG-21 a final look-over, he noticed the medical personnel of Detachment 21 drawing sidearms. Each person had opted to go with the Beretta 92FS or H&K USP 9mm Tactical rather than the standard issue Browning HP. As capable as the Browning was, age was beginning to catch up with the ones in Canada's arsenal, meaning that it wasn't as forgiving a weapon as the other two nine millimetre handguns. None of the medical staff took the optional silencers and laser sights.

Seeing everyone equipped, Rob grabbed one of the rucksacks Ritter had prepared with spare ammo for every weapon the Canadian team carried as well as clips for the weapons the other SG teams were toting. Clipping his bag onto his tactical vest, Rob raised his right hand and made a chopping motion down with it. "Let's go, people. There are lives on the line here!"

As one, the eight members of SG-21 ran for the gate room, the medics, doctor and nurses a few paces behind them, not as used to the gear they had to carry. With thirty seconds to spare, Rob herded his people into a loose semi-circle, standing behind Colonel Mitchell and SG-1. As the gate started to spin to life, he began giving each of his weapons a final once-over, making sure they were all chambered and safetied so that he didn't shoot himself or others accidentally while still being ready to use any one of them at a moment's notice.

In front of him, Mitchell finished his own last minute check and turned to face the younger man. "Scared, Captain?"

With a wiry grin, Rob looked the colonel in the eye. "No more than I was when I fought to take back Durham, Colonel." Both men grinned slightly at his cheek, tension relieved before the Stargate whooshed open, settling into the calm pool that it was when the time came to transit it.

Mitchell looked around and lead SG-1 up the ramp, all four members holding their P90s professionally, looking ready for anything. Immediately behind them came Louis Ferretti, the recently promoted Lieutenant Colonel in command of SG-2. Waving his arm at the three men under his command, Ferretti and team were rapidly swallowed by the wormhole.

It was time. The eight members of SG-21 advanced towards the shimmering pool. Seven of them were somewhat daunted, as they'd never been through before. Jen Hailey, on the other hand, had been through a few times, so she knew what to expect.

Walking beside her commanding officer, she softly muttered some advice to him. "Breathe out as you walk in, and don't change your stride." Nodding slightly, the two brought up their rifles and held them ready to fire, but kept the safeties on as a precaution. A fast step later and they entered the wormhole's event horizon, being whirled off towards the distant planet known only as P9J-524.

During the brief moment Rob passed through the wormhole, he felt more sensations than he'd ever thought possible. His conciousness seemed to float detached from any harness as it was tugged along through space. His perception of time was compressed and expanded all at the same time, causing him to wonder at how he could even be thinking when his very brain had been reduced to the molecular level upon entry.

Before any answers presented themselves, the young officer emerged on the other side, chilled more than any time in his life and suffering from a moment of vertigo. Before the feeling passed, his right foot went past the upper step on the Stargate platform, sending him into an impromptu shoulder roll, landing on his left knee, right leg halting his motion, C7 up and scanning, safety clicked off.

Off his right flank, he knew Jen to be doing the same with her M4, although without the gymnastic entrance. Behind the two, the rest of SG-21 transited in pairs, with James and Andrea next through. Both of them landed with a slightly dizzy look, but were saved from falling as Rob steadied Andrea and Jen did the same for James.

Before the next pair could transit, Rob tapped James on the shoulder and gestured for him to take up position at the DHD. A second gesture sent Andrea with him.

The rest of the team came through well enough, despite Luke's very queasy stomach. Within thirty seconds, the eight were ready to go. Rob took a moment to give out final orders after listening to radio traffic. "Janson, stay here with Loran and Grace. You're to form up with the medical staff when they arrive and protect them as they do their jobs. McCallister, take Mallard and try to find a good over-watch position in the hill there." He pointed off to a fair sized wooded hill to the side. "Kennedy, Hailey, with me. We're going straight up the middle to reinforce Dixon's men. SG-1 and SG-2 are already ahead of us. Dixon has operational command at this time." One fast look around and Rob gave the final order. "Move out!"

Suiting actions to words, he lead off at a steady run, making the kilometre long journey in the space of four minutes. As they came upon the battlefield, Rob saw that the SGC personnel already on the firing line were being pressed across a 160° arc. Pointing at Hailey and then over beside Colonels Mitchell and Carter, he turned himself and Hannah to join up with Colonel Dixon, who was holding the left flank and trying to cover an injured airman neither of the Canadians recognized.

Flopping down on his chest beside Dixon after pushing his P90 out of the way, Rob let loose a series of three-round bursts from his C7, sending a group of approaching Ori regulars scrambling for cover. None of the rounds hit targets, but the sudden break of their advance bought Dixon the time he needed to reload the grenade launcher underneath his M4. Raising up on one knee behind the rock formation he was using for cover, the USAF officer launched the freshly loaded grenade, blowing a small knot of targets flying.

On Rob's other side, Hannah landed flat after launching a complementary grenade at three enemies who'd tried to use her for a target. Not quite landing right to take out all three, it shredded one and knocked the other out. The third ducked, but continued firing, the bodies of his comrades having acted as a shield to protect him. A three round burst from Rob's C7 put him down as Hannah shifted long enough to get the P90 out of her chest.

Dixon took a moment to look over at the two new arrivals. "Who the hell are you two?" To the older man, neither was familiar.

Rob turned over slightly, facing the senior man. "Captain Rob Samuels and Lieutenant Hannah Kennedy, SG-21." Turning away again, he emptied the C7's clip in a series of single shots, dropping a couple of Ori soldiers. Launching the grenade he'd loaded before leaving Earth, Rob bought himself enough time to dig out a new clip for his C7 and a fresh 40mm grenade for the M203.

Grunting in reply for a moment, Dixon mirrored the younger man, reloading his M4. "Colonel Dixon, SG-13. Got any spare clips for that thing you can give me?" He nodded at the other man's C7 before turning and firing five bursts with his M4. Dropping down again, Dixon tried to find another clip in his tactical vest.

Setting his rifle down, Rob released the clips holding his rucksack on. Reaching in, he came up with a pouch of four clips. Wordlessly, he handed it to the colonel before laying a dozen 40mm grenades out, six on either side of the young captain. Taking up his C7 again, Rob started firing into the advancing ranks, wishing the medics would give them the all clear to withdraw.

A hundred metres away, James and Luke were settling into a small depression in the ground bordered by a pair of logs. They were thick enough that the staff-rifle fire would be stopped before hitting the two Canadians. Luke quickly flicked his rifle to single fire, aiming through the scope at one of the Ori regulars fifty metres away. With a gentle breath out, he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the side of the man's head. The crack of the C7 firing never registered to the hapless soldier's comrades over the din of automatic weapons fire and plasma bursts.

Beside him, James raised his C7, flicking it to a three-round burst setting before settling his scope's cross-hairs on the chest of a particularly stealthy soldier whom was doubtlessly hidden from view as he crept up on the SGC lines. A single pull of the trigger sent three high-powered rounds into the stealthy man's chest, red spurts marking the three holes as he fell.

Deriving a slight satisfaction with his marksmanship but none from the kill, James aimed for the next man in sight, downing him with a second three-round burst to the chest. The crack of another shot from the C7 in Luke's hands lead the explosion of a second Ori soldier's head as Luke took full advantage of their anonymity in the battle to do as much damage as he could.

After downing a third, James glanced over at Luke. "I swear, Luke, I've been hanging around you guys too often. Every time I kill one of these poor bastards, I expect Rob to come on the line to accuse me of AWP whoring."

Deadpanning through a grin, Luke quickly quipped back, "Well, we are camping..."

Unbeknownst to either of them, James' C7 stock had jammed against the transmit button for his radio, meaning that every word they'd just spoken had flowed into the ears of every person from the SGC. Crackling back across the channel, Rob could be heard to quickly retort, "Only if you had an AWP, McCallister. Now check your radio and keep firing." Despite the rebuke of his words, most of the listeners could hear the repressed laughter in his voice.

Looking down sheepishly, James shifted his vest slightly, moving his radio's transmit button away from the stock of his rifle before he resumed firing, taking down two more targets in rapid succession as Luke chuckled, quickly loosing single fired rounds at any head that poked itself up.

Back at the Stargate, Paul Janson knelt down, ready to offer covering fire as SG-5 transited, lead by Major Altman. Immediately behind them came the five-person medical section of Detachment 21, all disoriented slightly. Knowing time was of the essence, the freshly minted lieutenant whistled. "Captain Fitzgerald. I'm to escort you and your medical personnel to the wounded scientists." Gesturing towards John, he managed to convey the message to grab Balinsky and bring him over. While the new arrivals took a moment to orient themselves and assemble, Paul faced Balinsky.

Handing the academic two spare clips for the Beretta holstered at his side, Paul looked him over once. "You able to lead us to the wounded?" At the other man's slightly scared nod, Paul made sure his C7 was chambered and flicked off the safety. With a short gesture, he signalled for Balinsky to lead off, following closely as John took up a rear guard with Andrea staying in the middle with the doctor and nurses. The two combat medics walked with their Berettas out and ready to fire, flanking the combat inept doctor and nurses.

Sighing as he broke out into a jog across the uneven terrain, Paul almost prayed to a god he'd stopped believing in that they'd be in time to save the lives of the injured scientists and soldiers.

As she knelt beside Colonel Carter, Jen Hailey was amazed at the difference in the woman she considered a mentor. The normally cheerful and friendly woman had been replaced by a cold, hard warrior, someone accustomed to the slaughter of combat.

The contrast was stark enough that Jen had to shudder slightly as she loosed a burst at a cluster of approaching Ori soldiers. A small bead of sweat formed on her forehead as a plasma burst impacted inches from her face. Swearing silently, she turned and loosed a long burst back at the soldier who'd fired on her. Hearing the click of an empty chamber as she finished, Jen ducked down and quickly reloaded.

Taking a short look around as she waited for a safe opening to raise, Jen saw the combat hardened veterans of the SGC's war with the Goa'uld standing side by side with the younger members who'd never fought the Goa'uld. Off to the one side, she watched Rob and Hannah trading shots with the group of Ori soldiers trying to turn the flank. The blinking muzzle flashes off to the other side of the battle told her that James and Luke were busy fighting. It seemed that she was the only one scared to the point of wanting to break and run.

A second look over at Carter gave her a dose of courage as the woman that she knew so well peeked through the battle-hardened look as Carter smiled at the younger woman. Rising up, Jen Hailey, the so-called "four foot nine fighting machine" (despite being five foot four), returned to the fight, determined to survive and prove she deserved her place in the SGC.

An earth-shatteringly loud explosion stunned Rob as one of the grenades tossed by a marine further along the line was batted back. A gentle tug on his left sleeve and at the skin below told him that he'd been hit. A slight force on his upper chest told him that he was lucky to be alive, but none of that seemed to sink in to Rob's mind as he glanced around, trying to shake the explosively-induced disorientation he was suffering from. Flashes issued from guns all around him as everyone kept firing.

The young man's attention was grabbed as he saw the brass shells gracefully fly from the breech of a bipod mounted M249 light machine gun. The sunlight blinked of the shining brass arced slowly downward, tumbling in the slight breeze blowing across. The noise of the battlefield was shockingly dampened as the first shell he'd tracked hit the ground gently.

A slightly vacant expression graced his face as he saw the blinking light of muzzle flashes to either side of him returned by the brighter and more solid flashes of incoming orange plasma. It all seemed so slow as the young Canadian brought his head back around to face the weapon in his hands. The hard black polymer and metal construction met his gaze as he traced the lethal lines of the firearm.

Time suddenly sped back up to normal as a heavy hand landed on Rob's shoulder jerking him down out of the way of a barrage of plasma. The returning roar of automatic weapons fire assaulted the young man's ears. There was something else assaulting his ears, something far more familiar than gunshots – a human voice half yelling in gravelly, American-accented English.

It took an extra moment for Rob to tune into what was being said. "... out of it, kid. Shake it off and keep your head down or you'll end up with it blown off!" Dixon released Rob's shoulder as the younger man nodded and settled in, checking over his C7 quickly before raising it and returning fire at the group who'd nearly decapitated him. Emptying the clip at another group he saw moving into position, Rob ducked out of the way long enough to slap home a fresh clip and chamber a round before he heard cursing beside him.

Dixon held what had once been an M4A1/M203. The front of the barrel, including the front sight was now a mass of melted metal, plastic and cloth, completely useless to anyone looking to use the weapon. Snorting with incredulity at how lucky Dixon had been, Rob flipped the sling of his C7 off his body and handed the rifle over to the cursing senior officer. "You're better with this than I am, sir."

Nodding his thanks, Dixon quickly checked the clip and loaded grenade before turning back to fire on the advancing enemy. Beside him, Rob pulled his P90 into position and checked to make sure there was nothing blocking it from firing normally. Confident it was safe to fire, he flicked it to full automatic and let loose a long burst, sending two Ori soldiers to the ground.

The fallen men were immediately replaced by a fresh quartet busily firing staff weapons at the SGC officers. _If the medics don't hurry up, they won't be bringing any of us home alive._

Master Corporal Linda Hu was a small woman, standing at only five foot even and weighing in at only 128 pounds in full uniform and gear. But to the man she was crouching over, she might as well have been God. Hands clad in white latex gloves, she was rapidly trying to stem the blood loss from the nameless scientist under her. Reaching into her bag, she extracted a pair of compression bandages, using one to cover the bleeding burn on his leg.

Before she could settle the other one on the man's shoulder wound, a series of plasma blasts sent the earth around her erupting into the air. Heedless of her own safety, she leaned over the man she had never met before and shielded him from the flying plasma and the dirt it tossed up. Distantly, she heard Lieutenant Janson shifting Lieutenant Loran to cover a previously unseen group of Ori soldiers advancing on the medical staff.

Once enemy fire had slackened enough, she moved back and began bandaging the far more serious shoulder wound. By the time the poor man had stopped screaming from the slight jolts needed to secure it, the bandage had begun to soak through, turning the white padding into a crimson mess.

Across from where she was working, she saw Janson firing madly into the oncoming enemy, shouting into his radio to be heard over the noise of battle. "Colonel, we cannot hold this position! We either need reinforcements or we're going to have to pull back!"

Cursing, Linda Hu grabbed the man she'd been helping in an abbreviated fireman's carry and drew her Beretta, aiming it one handed as she began to pull back to the Stargate with her living cargo. Nearby, she saw her parter starting to do the same.

Flicking on her radio, she quickly informed her commanding officer about their movements before turning and running as fast as she was capable of back towards the Stargate, firing at any target that presented itself.

As he heard Hu report that she with one of the wounded personnel, Rob smiled grimly. They were on the brink of being overrun, but the wounded were being taken back to Earth. Dropping down after firing a long burst from his P90, Rob popped the clip out and tossed it aside, slamming a fresh one into it's place. He took the brief moment to toggle his radio. "McCallister, Mallard, reinforce Janson and assist in their retreat. You've done everything you can over there." Hearing two fast answers, he turned back to the fight and began laying down intensive fire again.

Five clips later and he heard the long-awaited report come through the radio: "This is McCallister. The wounded are through the gate. SG-21-Beta is holding the door open, but we're starting to see signs of Ori punching towards us."

Beside the now smiling captain, Dixon began shouting orders. "All units, being to pull back, leap-frog style. SG-2, you're first, followed by SG-1 and SG-13. SG-21 will jump last, laying down smoke to cover the retreat."

Laying down two of the smoke grenades he'd dug out of the pack Rob had taken off at the start of the battle, the colonel stripped the safety tape off of them before cramming the last of the ammo he could use into his pockets. He then set the P90 clips down by the smoke grenades for Rob to grab as he ran.

Smiling up at Dixon and taking one of the fresh clips, Rob reloaded his P90, discarding the partially used clip in preparation for the retreat. The rest of the spares rapidly found homes in the emptied pouches on his vest and thigh. Looking around, he saw that Hannah beside him was ready, pins pulled from her grenades but the spoons held in place by her hands. Across from the arc, Jen was just as ready.

Rob rose and pulled the pin from the first of his grenades, heaving it into one of the gaps left by the retreating SGC personnel. The next filled another one of the gaps as two more landed, creating a wall of smoke to clear the way for Rob and Hannah to retreat.

Slapping his teammate's shoulder, Rob waited until he saw Jen sprinting for the next line, smoke screening her from the enemy's sight. As she drew even with him, he began his own sprint, not bothering to fire back at the enemy. As the two approached the waiting teams, Dixon waved at them. "Go cover the Stargate! We lose control, we don't go home!" Sketching a brief salute, Rob grabbed Jen and Hailey, ushering them with him to reinforce the gate.

When the arrived minutes later, the three threw themselves towards the scant cover the rest of their team was using as a firing berm, holding back the Ori advance. James threw a grenade into the advance to offer a little bit of extra confusion to cover his teammates arrival. The three newcomers showed their appreciation by sending a hundred rounds of ammunition flying into the face of the approaching enemy. At the end of the line, Jen threw her M4 onto her back, raising her P90 to allow her to continue firing. Between Rob and James, Hannah did the same after firing her last grenade into the enemy.

Looking at his second in command, Rob silently wondered what the man had done with his C7. As if to answer, James nodded his head at where Balinsky was using a gun that looked suspiciously like a C7A1/M203 to hose the enemy with fire.

A string of plasma bursts prevented any further communication as they were forced to duck for a moment before aiming P90s out and firing as fast as they could aim at enemies that were thicker than ever.

Within five minutes, Rob was down to only one spare clip and was plum out of grenades. Looking back at where he'd come from, he saw SG-1 and SG-13 running at full speed for the Stargate, the occasional burst of plasma following them. Dixon, Carter and Mitchell were at the back, occasionally turning to fire at targets Rob couldn't see.

A blink later and Rob saw Dixon stumble, a very near miss from a staff weapon sending him tumbling to the ground. Carter and Mitchell immediately picked the dazed officer up and hauled him to the gate. Pushing him through with Teal'c, they prepared to cover the retreat from beside the gate. Rob turned and began shouting for SG-21 to begin withdrawing.

Balinsky and Loran were first, as they were closest to the gate. Loran provided extra cover for the academic before they both plunged through the wormhole. Next went Paul and Hannah. As they reached the gate steps, two plasma bolts reached out. One barely grazed the two as it passed right between his left and her right arm, but the second slammed into the side of Hannah's left leg, sending her stumbling into Paul as they transited. Rob cringed but kept firing, trying to make up for the four weapons pulled off the firing line.

A moment later he waved for Luke and Andrea to run. Andrea made it cleanly, but Luke was immediately pinned down by staff-rifle fire far more accurate than any of them liked. The big sniper grabbed one of his two C13 fragmentation grenades and threw it directly over his head at the enemy. As it exploded, he rose up and ran towards the gate. Understanding Rob's rapid waving, Jen rose to join him, spraying the last of her P90 ammo back at their attackers. The two made it through the gate cleanly.

That left only four people on the wrong end of the wormhole. Knowing they had to move fast, James and Rob stood up and began laying down alternating bursts, backing up as fast as they could. They managed to get to ten metres from the gate before they ran out of ammo. James quickly loaded his last clip, but Rob had to drop his empty P90 to hang from it's clip. To make up for the loss of the submachine gun, he drew the large SOCOM pistol he carried in a thigh holster. Leveling it in a two-handed grip, he started taking single shots at any target that poked it's head out into the open.

James was firing again as they hit the foot of the gate's stone base. Crouching down as a sudden hail of plasma assaulted them, James gave Rob the time to reload his SOCOM and take up a position beside Carter. As James hit the top step and began to hurtle himself through, the other three rose. Mitchell immediately took a glancing staff-rifle blast to the leg, sending him down again. Carter grabbed the man's right arm as Rob grabbed the back of his vest, both officer's heaving their wounded comrade through the gate.

A moment later, the three slammed down onto the hard metal grating that lead to the Stargate in Cheyenne Mountain, with Carter calling for the iris to be closed. Once again, the SGC had brought it's people home.


	7. Per Ardua Ad Astra: New Encounters

**New Encounters**

Minutes later, the chaos in the gate room had abated enough that the uninjured SG team members were able to stand around General Landry. The battle had cost the SGC fairly heavily, with nine people in the infirmary for staff-rifle wounds. Luckily, the medics had arrived fast enough to prevent anyone from dying.

So it was a very tired group of soldiers who waited on Landry's words. "Good job out there today, people. You got everyone out without fatalities. All of our wounded will survive. SG-2, since you're the only un-injured unit, you'll debrief in two hours. SG-13, SG-18, 0800 tomorrow. SG-1 and SG-21, 1100 hours tomorrow. Go get cleaned up and checked out, everyone. You're off for the rest of the day now."

A chorus of tired answers washed over the general as his troops filed off towards locker rooms and the infirmary. SG-21's uninjured members trooped off towards their armoury and locker room, trading congratulatory back-slaps and humbly accepting the appreciation of SG-13 and SG-18.

The rest of the teams split off and went to the main locker room. By sheer dint of being the first of the Canadian Forces units to be deployed, SG-21 had been assigned lockers in a newly constructed room, which turned out to be nice for them since the large amount of space allowed them to spread out to change rather than being crammed into a single tight space with a bunch of others.

Rob and Luke collected the rifles and submachine guns from the others, depositing them back with Master Warrant Officer Ritter. The man looked up with some surprise as the two officers rapidly began removing clips and clearing chambers, readying the guns for storage again. It took the three only two minutes to clear the weapons. Before the men could start to offer assistance in cleaning them, the old warrant officer waved them away.

When the pair walked into the locker room, they were greeted with silence as everyone tried to come to terms with the recent combat. Ignoring the silence, Rob walked over to his locker and opened it after rapidly dialing in the combination. Shucking his tactical vest, the young officer then tossed his ballistic sunglasses and floppy wide-brimmed combat hat on the top shelf before pulling his ballistic armour off. Turning it to place it back in his locker, Rob felt his finger catch on something sharp. A small drop of his blood now adorned a sliver of shrapnel in the armour, one of five clustered in a rough line.

As Rob muttered a soft curse of shock, James looked over from his left and let out a low whistle. "You got damn lucky, man." Slapping his captain's left arm, James froze at the sudden sharp curse Rob let out.

Wincing, Rob quickly took his jacket off and hissed in disapproval as he saw the seven inch gash across his upper arm still seeping blood. Reaching for a bandage out of his tactical vest, the young Captain quickly handed it to his second in command before rolling the remnants of his undershirt's left sleeve up and out of the way. James quickly tied the bandage into place and nodded to Rob, who shut his locker door and walked out, still wearing his gun belt.

A couple of odd looks greeted the Canadian as he walked confidently through the halls, ignoring two young female lieutenants who bumped into each other staring at him. As he turned the corner to a vacant corridor, Rob looked down at himself. A small grin tugged at his lips as he saw just how tightly his olive-green t-shirt was sticking to his body.

The six-week intensive training course before deploying to the SGC had done his body a world of good. While Rob had never been overly fat, he'd never been able to shake the slight bulge at his belt no matter how long he was in the gym each day. Now he was almost perfectly trim, with thick chest and arms that clearly showed his muscles. Absently, he mentally added that every one of his male teammates had received the same effect, something he'd once heard Andrea and Hannah giggling about before setting out for Colorado.

Arriving in the infirmary, the young captain shook himself out of his mental musings as he saw Paul sitting up in the nearest bed, left arm wrapped in a clean white bandage. Aside from that, the young man looked quite healthy and anxious to be moving again. Rob made an immediate detour over to him. "How's it going, Paul?"

The other man grinned slightly, and raised his left arm, putting it through some gentle motions, wincing only slightly as it forced the burned skin to pull. "Doing pretty good, boss. Should be back to full duty in a couple of weeks."

Nodding, Rob gave him an encouraging smile. "Good to hear. Don't give them any trouble if they want you to stay overnight, y'hear?" Grumbling good-naturedly, the junior man waved his captain away, eyeing the battlefield dressing on the other man's arm.

Slapping his teammate's boot, Rob wandered in further, coming to a curtained off bed. As he approached, the curtain parted, revealing Hannah Kennedy sighing and settling down, her left leg swathed in bandages, a clear IV running into her right hand. A woman with slightly Filipino features turned away after making notes on a clipboard and putting her pen back in the white lab coat she wore.

Ignoring her, Rob stepped up to Hannah's left side, smiling down at her. "So, had to go getting yourself shot in the leg to avoid those hated morning runs, huh?"

She laughed quietly. "Thanks, Captain. I needed that." Smiling, the young woman grasped her friend's left hand tightly with hers.

In a slightly abnormal show of affection, Rob placed his right hand on her cheek after brushing the young woman's brown hair away from her eyes. "Get some rest. I'm just a phone call away if you need anything, okay?" She simply nodded, squeezing his hand and snuggling her cheek into his other one as the medicine in her IV started to take hold. Rob waited until she was fully asleep before gently prying his hands free. Looking down at her for another moment, he blinked and turned away, running straight into the same doctor who'd been there before.

She bounced back lightly before planting a hand on the soldier's chest. "Hold it, mister. That's not one of my dressings."

Nodding, Rob allowed himself to be lead to the bed on the other side of Hannah. Setting her clipboard down, the doctor quickly reached forward, pulling the slightly startled officer's dog tags out from under his shirt. "Samuels, Robert Elliot. Canadian?" A slightly surprised look lit her face before she noticed the forest camouflage patterned utility pants. Slightly shrugging, she deftly started to undo the bandage James had applied after donning a set of latex gloves.

Rob hissed slightly with pain as she pulled it clear, the fifteen minutes between the application and removal of the bandage having been enough for it to stick slightly to his open wound. Trying to distract himself, Rob looked at the slender woman treating him. "Since you know my –" he hissed slightly as she deftly applied an antiseptic cleaner to wipe away the dried blood and allow a clearer look at the wound, "- name, mind if I ask yours?"

Smiling absently, the doctor looked up at Rob's face momentarily. "Doctor Carolyn Lam, CMO here at the SGC." She resumed examining the gash, and as she looked closely for any debris, he got the hint to shut up. A local anaesthetic and eighteen stitches later, Rob was handed a small bottle of Tylenol #2s. "Don't drive after taking any of these. The codeine could leave you a little loopy. Now get out of here and go home. You're not critical enough to need the bed."

As he got up to walk away, Lam handed him a second package. "Wrap that around your stitches and bandage when you go to shower." Nodding, Rob took the thinly veiled hint and started to walk away before being stopped a second time. "And next time, leave the guns outside my infirmary." This time Rob was forced to nod sheepishly as he walked out, clean white bandage covering his stitches contrasting with the grubby pants and sweat-stained olive-green shirt he wore.

Moving at a rapid clip, he returned to the locker room and stripped down, showered, and managed to pull on his boxers before the rest of the team that wasn't confined to the infirmary came in, dressed in civvies. Rob ignored the slight blush creeping up Jen's cheeks and the laughing look in Andrea's eyes as he grabbed the jeans and shirts he'd been wearing when they arrived at Cheyenne Mountain. Topping it all off with his favourite insulated vest and hiking boots, Rob grabbed his Beretta and clipped it holster and all to his belt, right at the small of his back. Lowering his vest and outer shirt over the holster, he turned to face the rest, jacket in hand to match them.

"So what's the big news?"

James gestured towards the two figures walking into the room. One revealed itself to be Samantha Carter, dressed in civvies with a heavy winter jacket held in her arms. The other turned out to be Daniel Jackson, dressed similarly. "We're going to rescue the five of you who'd be confined to base until you've found a place to live off-base." Smiling genuinely, Rob bowed his head slightly at that declaration.

"You, McCallister and Grace will be staying with me, while Mallard goes with Doctor Jackson and Loran goes with Jen." Carter stated, hoping to get the group moving. It worked. They all turned and followed the SG-1 team members out into the corridor and up to the surface. By mutual consent, Rob and John detached the trailer on the back of Rob's gunmetal grey Durango, leaving it beside Paul's truck. Luke grabbed his travel bag out of the SUV before following Jackson to his car, bidding the rest a good night. John grabbed his bag out of Paul's truck before following Jen to her car, waving gently to the others.

Smiling gently, Carter gestured for the three she was taking with her to climb into their vehicle before walking down the row to climb into her vintage Volvo. Leading the way through the checkpoints, Carter lead her three guests home to some well deserved sleep.

A half hour later, the three pulled up outside a nice two story home in Colorado Springs. Waiting for Carter to settle her Volvo in the driveway, Rob backed into the driveway in front of her, a slight plan for the morning bouncing around in his head. The trio of Canadians climbed out, hauling their bags with them. Within a half hour, Carter had shown Andrea and James to the spare bedroom they'd be sharing and ushered Rob into a bedroom that looked like it had been decorated for a girl in her late teens to early twenties.

Looking over at Carter, Rob raised an eyebrow. "Daughter off to college, ma'am?"

Carter laughed slightly. "Yeah. Cassandra's at the University of Colorado's Boulder campus. She won't be home until the weekend at the earliest." With that, Carter waved goodnight and went off to her own room, leaving Rob to plunk his bag down on the far side of the bed before pulling his Beretta off the back of his belt, placing it on the floor beside his bag. Thinking quickly, he set his cell phone's alarm before quickly stripping down to his boxers. Walking over to shut the light off, Rob quickly walked back and slipped into bed. Warmed slightly under the comforter, it's protection from the cold Colorado night allowed the exhausted young soldier to fall quickly into a deep sleep.

Flicking radio stations, Cassandra Fraiser settled back into her seat as she drove south through the official start of a new day. The young blonde had finished work and managed to trade a couple of shifts away, allowing her the rest of reading week and the full week of Thanksgiving at home with her godmother. _Sam's going to be shocked as hell when she wakes up to find me home._

By the time Cassandra finally pulled to a stop outside Sam Carter's house, it was just after one in the morning. Yawning, the young woman grabbed her bag of clothes from the back seat of the Volkswagen she drove and walked up to the front door, keys in hand. She barely noticed the large SUV parked in Carter's driveway, discarding it as probably belonging to Carter's newest teammate.

Had she not known how SG-1 worked, Cassandra might have thought it strange for one of Carter's teammates to sleep over. However, she did know, and knew that they'd often sleep at one another's homes if they'd had a little too much to drink or were unable to stay at their own for whatever reason.

Walking into the quiet house carefully, the young woman left her shoes by the door, locking it up before walking up the carpeted stairs to her room. Dismissing the closed door as irrelevant – Carter had company, after all – she walked in and dropped her bag in the middle of the floor. Shutting the door again, Cassandra didn't bother flicking the light on before she stripped down to her panties and tank top, climbing into bed, asleep almost as fast as her head hit the pillow.

Had she turned on the light, she might have noticed the lump on the other side of the queen-sized bed...

The sun had just started to lighten the window to Cassandra's room as she slowly awoke, a very strange set of sensations piercing her sleep-fogged brain. The first was that her pillow was smaller than normal, with far too much fraying at the edges. The second was a slight prickling at her forehead. Opening her eyes in the early dawn light, Cassandra was met with the sight of a very firm set of pectorals covered in hair. A set of dog tags hung against her "pillow" - a strange man's arm. Panic suddenly set in as she realized that she was waking up in a strange man's arms, and said strange man was in HER bed.

Letting loose a scream as panic got the better of her, Cassandra planted her hands against the chest of the stranger and shoved, sending the sleeping man crashing to the floor as she scrambled out the other side, tripping over her forgotten bag.

As she stood up quickly, her mystery bed companion came up as well, short brown hair tussled with sleep, neatly trimmed beard slightly askew for the same reason. What caught her attention the most was the black handgun in his hands, held professionally in a two-handed grip. His hard gaze swept over her quickly and began looking around for a threat.

Breathe caught in her throat, Cassandra tried to gather her thoughts and wits as he stood fully, taking a couple of steps around the bed. At that moment, the bedroom door slammed open, Sam Carter leading the way in with her Beretta, followed closely by James with his USP. A half second behind him came Andrea, Beretta in hand but hanging at her side.

No one spoke for a moment as the four military officers looked around for a threat. Long seconds later, Carter turned to face the slightly cowering Cassandra. She lowered her gun, flicking on the safety before kneeling down and setting it aside. James and Rob took that as a cue to lower their guns as well, trusting in Carter's instincts and superior knowledge of the situation.

Surprising all four of the other people present, Carter began to laugh.

During the very long minute it took for Carter to regain her composure, Rob had placed his Beretta back in it's holster and was standing on the other side of the mystery girl. With a slightly embarrassed expression, the young officer held out the housecoat he'd found hanging off the closet door. _After all, it's a tad cold in here and I'm sure she's not that happy with a pair of strange guys and a strange woman looking at her while she's in her panties... With teddy bears on them?_ Smirking slightly, Rob turned away, trying to be as polite as possible.

With a soft appreciative remark, the mystery girl took the housecoat, wrapping it around herself and securely tying it. By this time, Carter had finally stopped laughing enough to start explaining what was so funny to her.

First, however, she decided to get the introductions out of the way. "Cassie, this is Captain Robert Samuels, RCAF, and his teammates Lieutenants James McCallister and Andrea Grace, of the RCAF and RCA respectively." She paused long enough for them to each offer the still bewildered young woman polite nods before finishing up. "Captain, Lieutenants, this is my goddaughter, Cassandra Fraiser."

Crossing her arms over her chest protectively, Cassandra nodded. "Pleasure to meet you all, I'm sure."

Stepping forward slightly, Rob held his right hand out towards Cassandra. "I'm sorry for the scare this morning."

Tentatively, Cassandra took his hand, glaring the entire time, although she forced herself to be polite. "It's alright. I don't make a habit of climbing in bed with a stranger."

With a rueful grin, Rob nodded. "I fully believe that, Miss Fraiser." Belatedly, he looked at the battered watch on his left wrist. _0639. _"Oi vey. Colonel, why don't you, Miss Fraiser, and the lieutenants head back to bed for an hour or so while I go get some breakfast foods and cook everyone a solid breakfast?"

Carter seemed to be mulling the idea over as James and Andrea grinned. "Great. More sleep and a great breakfast. We're good for that." Andrea commented for the both of them. That seemed to decide Carter as she nodded and yawned before kissing Cassandra on the forehead, picking up her Beretta and walking out of the room, the two lieutenants following.

Turning back to his surprise roommate, Rob finally looked himself over slightly. "I, uh, I'm going to get my bag and leave you to your room, Miss Fraiser." A glare chased him the entire way out before a slammed door sealed the encounter. Grimacing, Rob quickly shut himself in the bathroom. "I guess I still have a way with women." Sighing, he chocked up another name to the list of women angry with him and stripped down to shower, determined to at least try an apologise to the rest of the people in the house.

It had taken him nearly a half hour and a stop to ask directions at a coffee shop he'd come across, but Rob had finally found an independent grocery store that seemed to have a decent selection. He ran a mental checklist, filling a cart with two pounds of bacon, two dozen eggs, three trays of pre-prepared home fries, a small ham, green onion, grated cheese, breakfast sausages, orange juice, apple juice, milk, pancake mix, maple syrup and margarine. Just before he checked out he also added a loaf of whole wheat, a loaf of rye bread, and a small jar of basil.

With that small chore finished, he made a fast stop at the coffee shop again to refill his cup before driving back to the Carter residence, taking the groceries directly into the kitchen. Turning on the oven, he quickly prepared the home fries to go in and bake up. While the oven warmed up, he hunted out three frying pans and set them on the stove, placing one pound of bacon close at hand while slipping the other into the fridge. A dozen of the eggs followed by the milk and juice followed it.

With that accomplished, Rob turned on the stove top and started warming the pans to cook everything in. As he place a bit of margarine into the egg pan, James walked into the kitchen, looking slightly rumpled but alert. He didn't bother to say anything, choosing instead to simply watch Rob cook.

Another twenty minutes and everything was being placed out onto the table. Appreciative noises were made as they dug in, each eating heartily at Rob's insistence. Lively conversation struck up between Carter, James and Andrea, but bypassed Rob and Cassandra. The two shared only a handful of words, with Rob getting an uneasy feeling and expression every time Cassandra glared his way. Her previous shock had completely given way to a sort of burning anger directed at the man who'd had the nerve to sleep in her bed at her godmother's direction.

Once the meal had wound down, Rob collected the plates and cutlery, letting Andrea grab the serving dishes while James fetched more coffee for their hosts. Once they were separated enough that Cassandra and Carter couldn't overhear, Rob leaned in to his two friends. "Once we're finished here, I'm going to get the hell out of here. I'm really not that comfortable sticking around, especially with the glares I keep getting from Miss Fraiser."

James simply shrugged. "We'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Don't bother. I'm going to see if Colonel Carter can bring you in so that you don't have to rush. Besides, I've got a fair bit of paperwork to fill out after yesterday's mission." Rob shrugged and finished loading dishes into the dishwasher before turning it on. Ignoring the slightly questioning looks from his teammates, he walked back to the table and made his request of Carter. She nodded and thanked him again for cooking. Shrugging it off, Rob was gone within ten minutes.


	8. Per Ardua Ad Astra: Battlefield Memories

**Battlefield Memories**

It was a little after nine in the morning when Rob arrived in the control room of the SGC, comfortably dressed in his fatigues. Despite the less formal uniform, he still stood out amid the bustling USAF personnel. It took nearly five minutes, but Rob managed to track own Master Sergeant Harriman and find out where he was able to write up his mission reports.

Moving quickly through the section on level 24 dedicated to the personnel of Special Detachment 21, Rob spotted the two rooms Harriman had indicated. One was simply labelled **SG-21 Team Room** while the other was labelled a little more specifically – **Capt. R. Samuels, Commanding Officer Special Detachment 21, Commanding Officer SG-21**.

It was into the latter room Rob walked, quickly spying the little perks of command. There was a small but serviceable coffee pot on a low-slung filing/storage cabinet along the right hand wall. On the ground beside it was a bar fridge mounted on a foot-high stand. A small assortment of coffee accessories sat atop the fridge, including eight coffee mugs. On a whim, he crouched slightly, opening the fridge to reveal a small assortment of bottled water, pop, juice, and a two-litre container of milk. Shutting the door, Rob stood and looked over the rest of the setup.

One corner was taken up by a large metal cabinet, one Rob immediately recognized as a server rack. Inside stood what looked like two servers with all the proper networking equipment to maintain the Detachment 21 personnel. Beside the rack was a double-doored metal storage cabinet. Rob suspected the thing was made to hold some spare clothing that wouldn't or couldn't go into the lockers in the main locker room.

Dominating most of the back wall was a large screen, currently showing the SGC logo, but likely capable of allowing the occupant(s) of the room to monitor any number of things, both in the SGC and the outside world. Five feet in front of it sat a fairly solid-looking desk made out of wood and metal. A comfortable-looking swivel chair sat behind it, tucked in and ready. A two-drawer filing cabinet stood at the left hand side, with a compact but capable printer on top of it. Two wood framed chairs sat in front of it, with a low couch along the wall opposite the coffee pot somewhat facing the desk.

The walls were a uniform grey where something didn't intersect with it. A coat-rack tucked in the corner where it was hidden while the office door was open. There was nothing else remarkable in the office. So, shutting the door behind him, Rob strode over to the desk and began to look it over, seating himself in the provided chair. It was then that he noticed the items on the desk. The first thing he noticed was an SGC issue laptop, already plugged into the power bar hidden under his desk. It had no other cables running out of it, causing Rob to suspect that it had impressive wireless capabilities.

Beside it was a remote control that looked to be for the screen behind him. Looking it over for a moment, Rob moved on to look at the standard nameplate and green blotter. A two-level paper tray served as his In and Out boxes. The only thing in them was a brown envelope addressed to **Commanding Officer, SG-21**.

Opening it, Rob found the access card for the door – now he could actually lock it – keys for the cabinets and desk, and instructions for the operation of the laptop and screen.

It took him nearly an hour to go through the configuration instructions for the laptop, but was rewarded a short time later as it began performing properly, giving him access to the SGC network. The first thing he noticed was three temporary links available on his main screen. One was a listing of the contents of the desk and filing cabinets, the second was the setup instructions for the report system and other goodies he needed to use to do the administration side of his job properly, and the third was a straight link to where the young captain could access the inter-department message system.

Sighing, the brown haired young man began the new instruction set and settled himself into the SGC for his first full day.

Two hours later, a soft rapping at the door disturbed Rob from his reports and other paperwork. Looking up, he saw an unfamiliar man wearing a blue USAF issue coverall. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with large, thin-framed glasses. Seeing that the man wasn't moving into the office, Rob made a slightly impatient "come in" gesture. As the man came close to the desk, Rob stood, grabbing some printouts from the stack of printed paper.

"Sir, I'm Master Sergeant Siler. General Landry asked me to make sure that the facilities set aside for you and your detachment are adequate." Siler looked slightly uncomfortable, like he had somewhere else he'd rather be.

Ignoring this, Rob gestured towards the coffee pot. "Coffee, Sergeant?" Rob began pouring his own cup, not giving Siler a chance to answer. "If you enjoy it, this stuff seems pretty good. I'll be bending your ear for a bit, so it might be a good idea." A bewildered expression crossed the older man's face before he did as suggested, using one of the eight cups sitting beside the coffee pot.

Turning one of the two chairs in front of his desk, Rob sat down and crossed his legs loosely, leaning back slightly. Quickly picking up on the informal nature of this meeting, Siler sat across from him, mirroring the officer's position. Taking a polite sip, the older man set the cup down and looked at the younger man with a questioning look on his face.

"I've heard you're the go-to man for just about everything around this base, Sergeant. Could I get you to give me a run-down of the important things here?"

Still looking uncomfortable, Siler shifted and haltingly began speaking. "If you're thinking of the defenses, sir, you'd be better off asking Colonels Dixon and Reynolds, or Lieutenant Colonel Carter." A slight glare jerked him back to speech. "As for the infrastructure here, we have internal stores of almost a million gallons potable water, enough reserve power for a week and a half of normal operations, food and other consumables that should last for approximately three months, depending on how many people assigned and on base at the time."

Before the sergeant got into a very detailed description of the base, a knocking at the door interrupted them. Without waiting, the person on the other side opened the door fully, revealing a blonde-haired woman wearing green BDU pants and a black shirt. Her arrival caused both men to come to their feet, Rob a bit more formally than Siler, who knew the blonde quite well.

"Colonel Carter. What can I do for you?"

A slightly bashful expression crossed the colonel's face as she gave him an apologetic glance. "Actually I need to corral Siler to handle some gate diagnostics while we debrief from yesterday."

With a nod, Rob turned to the sergeant and offered his hand. "Whenever you've got some free time and fancy a cup of coffee, I'd be delighted if you could finish bringing me up to speed." A nod and a polite smile were all that Siler spared before he moved quickly out into the corridor, following a rapidly retreating Carter.

Moving back around his desk, Rob plunked himself back into his chair and pulled the laptop into a slightly more comfortable position, setting a mental alarm to remind himself of the debriefing. Meanwhile, he would use the time to write out a rough sketch of his mission report and begin filling in the forms required to cover medical leave for the injured Hannah Kennedy.

Armed with a fresh cup of coffee, a small stack of folders holding all manner of things he needed to read over, and his omni-present PDA, Rob settle himself into a chair midway along the large conference room table, joining the solemn-faced Teal'c. A brief nod of greeting was sufficient for the two men as Teal'c seemed to be mulling something over and Rob had paperwork to handle.

A single request to modify the body armour worn by the personnel of Detachment 21 was quickly approved, as it would offer them greater protection from the staff weapons the soldiers would be facing on the battlefield. Three requests for various pieces of field medical equipment were also quickly approved. Just before the rest of SG-1 and SG-21 trickled in, Rob signed off on a requisition to replace the ammunition expended during the battle yesterday.

With practiced ease, Carter and Mitchell – with a wince due to his wound – took the seats to either side of Landry's centre chair, with Mitchell beside Teal'c and Carter beside Jackson as he settled in with his omni-present cup of coffee. As the three senior lieutenants on SG-21 settled in, Rob sent a quick welcoming smile to Jen Hailey across from him and Paul Janson to her left. James settled in to Rob's right, sandwiching him between the smaller man and the archaeologist/anthropologist of SG-1.

John Loran quickly settled down beside his college friend while Luke settled in one seat apart from James. This earned him a small look of confusion from the SG-1 members that disappeared with the appearance of Andrea, who took her seat with a soft greeting and a quick pat on James' shoulder, the largest display of affection she could use while on duty.

At precisely 1100 hours, General Hank Landry stepped out of his office and settled into his chair at the head of the table. He wasted no time in bringing the debriefing to order. "Alright, people. What happened out there yesterday? SG-1?"

Carter and Mitchell traded off evenly as they described SG-1's role in the battle on P9J-524. They kept it to the point, not bothering to describe the smell of cordite, dirt, blood, and ozone. They accurately described the enemy tactics, gave their best estimates on numbers, and offered the theories they'd come up with on what drew them down on the science expedition.

As the two USAF officers talked, seven hands were moving styluses over PDA screens rapidly any time they hit on a point they should note, be it for later questioning, a lesson to learn, or simply something they felt important.

Once Carter and Mitchell were finished and the other two members had weighed in with a couple of extra comments, Landry looked down the table a bit to where SG-21 sat. "From the top, Captain. Everything you can recall."

Taking a deep breath, Rob began. "Once you gave the authorization for deployment, I called for SG-21 and the medical staff of SD-21 to assemble ready for emergency deployment. We equipped with standard gear, sidearm, P90, and either C7A1 or C8A1 with M203 under-slung grenade launcher. Each of us also deployed with a rucksack full of ammunition for the teams deploying and the teams already off-world to allow for greater time in combat before we lost effectiveness.

"Once we arrived on '524, I split SG-21 into three groups. The first group consisted of Lieutenants Janson, Loran, and Grace. They were detailed to provide cover for the medical personnel and reinforce the SGC personnel on-site with the wounded. I then sent Lieutenants McCallister and Mallard off to a flanking position where Lieutenant Mallard's skill at sniping would cause great havoc in the enemy ranks. Lieutenants Hailey and Kennedy came with me.

"SG-2 had already deployed to reinforce the main group with SG-1. SG-21-Alpha, my group, followed quickly with Beta while Gamma waited for the medics to transit. When Alpha arrived at the main battle, the Ori were trying to turn our left flank and punch through the centre. Lieutenant Hailey took position beside Colonel Carter near the centre, while Lieutenant Kennedy and I took position with Colonel Dixon to hold the left flank."

Rob paused long enough to take a sip of coffee and order the rest of his memories. "There was no discernible order to the Ori attack. The only true sign of any kind of battle plan was their flank attack. However, I suspect it was meant as a diversion from the main assault. Regardless, had Colonel Dixon not had the presence of mind to make a stand there, I have little doubt the forces in place would have been overrun.

"We held them back long enough for the medics to get their jobs done and bring the wounded home. The moment Gamma radioed in that the wounded were starting to be evacuated, I ordered Beta to move out and link up with Gamma to provide extra cover in their run for the gate. It was approximately five minutes later that McCallister radioed in that everyone was out of the gate.

"SG-21-Alpha was the last group to pull back from the defensive perimeter. As ordered by Colonel Dixon, we each laid down smoke grenades to obscure the enemy's vision. Once out of the perimeter, we were ordered to reinforce the gate to make sure everyone could make it home. Upon arrival at the gate, Alpha assumed positions mixed in with Beta and Gamma. SG-21 was also reinforced by Balinsky from SG-13.

"SG-5 was already through the gate with the wounded and medics, and SG-18. Jackson, Wells, and Bosworth transited just after SG-2. As stated, Colonels Mitchell, Carter and Dixon were acting as rear-guard for the retreating teams. At this point, Dixon went down from a near miss, and was sent through the gate with Teal'c. Once I saw Colonels Mitchell and Carter take up positions to offer covering fire for the approach on the gate, I sent Balinsky and Loran back through first. Once they were safely through, I sent Janson and Kennedy for the gate. It was as they were about to go through that a single plasma burst burned their arms while a second hit Kennedy in the left leg.

"The Ori seemed to sense that we were at a point where they could overwhelm us with a large enough push of their forces. They came on heavy, pouring in more fire than before. Despite this, we had to move before they managed to get enough lucky shots in. I sent Mallard and Grace next. Grace made it, but Mallard was pinned down by enemy fire and couldn't move. Once he tossed a grenade out, he ran and I waved for Hailey to join him. It was at this point that McCallister and I made our move.

"We made it out in two moves. Our first put us at the base of the gate platform, and the second sent us through the gate. It was here that Colonel Mitchell took the shot to his leg. Colonel Carter and I quickly pulled him through with us, leading to our appearance in the gate room."

Once silence settled after his recitation of events, the young officer took a large drink of coffee, soothing his slightly parched throat and buying himself more time before he had to give the rest of his thoughts on the subject at hand.

"When I went over the battle this morning, I came across one large flaw in the way things are here at the SGC as a whole, with specific impact on the rescue mission to '524. While each of the SG teams are comprised of the elite of the US military and the brightest the world has to offer for scientific and linguistic backup, each team is only four or five men, with the exception of SG-21. We're not ready to face the kind of fight that we just walked away from. In short, we got damn lucky.

"None of the SG teams train to operate with each other seamlessly. Which basically means that you have a whole bunch of uncoordinated units moving about the area of operations. If we don't have coordination, we're going to have to rely on luck and the skill of a lot of little units rather than one large cohesive force."

Every head nodded slightly at his comments. Leaning forward, Landry speared the junior officer with a sharp look. "I agree, Captain, however we don't have the ability to maintain that kind of force at this time. Speak with me about it after your training here if you have any ideas. Now, Lieutenant Hailey, have you anything to add?"

Looking a little uncomfortable, Jen rested her hands flat on the desk with her PDA off to the side. "To my eyes, sirs, the soldiers we faced were fairly untrained, reminding me of farmers conscripted to fight. They lacked any real sense of fire and movement, marksmanship, or any of the other skills we drill into the rawest recruit."

The general looked thoughtful at this as heads slowly nodded around the table, finally nodding himself. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll speak to Lieutenant Kennedy when she's back to duty. Lieutenant McCallister, if you would fill in the time you and Lieutenant Mallard were separated from Captain Samuels, as well as anything you feel important from the time you were together."

James leaned forward in his chair, looking slightly unhappy about being centred out. "When Beta split off from Alpha, we took position fifty to a hundred metres off the right flank, putting us in excellent position to chip at the enemy flank as well as provide good support for the main defensive line. The only notable item I can recall is that the enemy never seemed to consider that their flank losses were as a result of snipers rather than rounds that simply missed the front ranks. I suspect that it's that same lack of training Lieutenant Hailey noted at work.

"When the captain ordered us to reinforce Gamma, we moved from our position towards where Gamma was trying to get the wounded evacuated..."

"_McCallister, Mallard, reinforce Janson and assist in their retreat. You've done everything you can over there." James groaned at the order, knowing that his commander was right, but not wanting to abandon the main group of SGC personnel they were aiding. He very briefly considered disobeying, but knew that he had no grounds to._

"_Understood. McCallister is moving." Firing off the last of the clip he was using, James swapped clips, barely hearing Luke's similar acknowledgement of the order over the roar of gunfire. Once his new clip was firmly seated and the first round chambered, the lithe lieutenant tugged on the tactical vest of his parter, urging the far larger man to move._

_The two moved swiftly, making good time in rendezvousing with Janson and company. Both of the newly arrived young officers were brought up short as they saw the sad shape of the wounded men and women. There was more blood on the bodies and ground around said bodies than it seemed could possibly have ever been in the bodies to begin with. One poor woman had taken three hits, two of them to the torso. There was a terrified, almost animalistic look of fear in her eyes as she waited for the medics to get to her. At her shoulder was an almost equally frightened Balinsky, trying valiantly to offer what comfort he could. _

_As the senior line officer in the area, James knew he had to hustle the evacuation. At the same time, he had to make sure that the Ori couldn't break through the firing line SG-21-Gamma and the surviving elements of SG-18 were maintaining. On top of all that, it was his duty to make sure that the poor woman in front of him survived._

_Although it felt like hours that the young officer stood there, only half a second had elapsed in the real world before he was marshalling a response to the scene in front of him. A fast flick of his wrists saw his C7 strap come off his shoulder as James shoved it stock-first to Balinsky before taking his pack off and doing the same. "Take these. Get on the firing line, there's no place for non-medically trained non-combatants. Hell, there's no room for non-combatants period!" The usually polite man quickly swore as he brought up his P90 and loosed a burst at an Ori soldier who'd nearly made it into the medical personnel. All six rounds stitched a pattern across the surprised man's chest, dropping him lifelessly to the ground. _

_With a detachment James had never figured himself to possess, he dropped to one knee and pulled out his field first aid kit. Opening it, he dug through for a vial of morphine, quickly plunging it into the meat of his patient's thigh, silently praying that she wasn't allergic. Tossing the now-empty vial aside, he looked her over again and winced. That slight expression was all that James could allow himself as he pulled his knife from it's sheath at the small of his back. Moving carefully, he cut away the fatigue jacket and undershirt from the blast to her lower abdomen. It looked pretty bad, but James knew that it had to have hit at some kind of an angle for her to still be alive. _

_With deft hands, he bandaged up the wound, ignoring the blood coating his hands, the blood starting to coat his sleeves as the woman grabbed at his arms, fighting the pain not blocked by the morphine. Gently pushing her arms away, he laid a bloodied hand on her cheek, offering silent comfort and strength before he took his knife and cut away the rest of her jacket and shirt, careful to at least leave the wounded woman the dignity of her bra. Using the same deft movements, he bandaged the wound just above her left breast, blushing slightly despite the seriousness of the situation. _

_With that task completed, he looked around, seeing the second combat medic hoisting his patient and hauling the man away while two SG-18 troopers lifted a sobbing woman on a gurney with the doctor straddling her hips, his hands busy inside her even as they moved. He saw three people walk away with wounds to the arms and shoulders, in obvious pain but bearing it to try and get to safety. One woman walked with an arm in an improvised sling that was already starting to be stained with her blood while she provided support for another man with a leg wound that prevented him from walking properly._

_The two nurses were busy hauling the last wounded SG-18 soldier between them, his eyes glassed over from a large dose of painkillers. Without another thought, James scooped up the woman he'd been working on, holding her carefully in his arms, ignoring his first aid kit and the wound to her arm as he began a jog back towards the gate, calling for the retreat of those on the firing line._

_The five minutes it took to return to the gate were the longest of his life. More than once one of the walking wounded had collapsed only to be aided by one of the combat effective soldiers. By the time they'd reached SG-5's defensive perimeter, everyone was helping a wounded person. With a careful motion, James shifted the injured woman in his arms to one of the burly men from SG-5 before signalling for the rest of SG-21 to do the same. _

_As SG-5 dialled home and took the wounded, medics, and still-moving members of SG-18 with them, James arrayed SG-21 Beta among a group of stumps, dips in the ground, and a couple of large boulders. Sharp eyes caught the movement of what could only be the Ori soldiers the SGC group thought they'd left behind during the retreat._

_Looking quickly back at the gate, James flicked on his radio. "This is McCallister. The_

_wounded are through the gate. SG-21-Beta is holding the door open, but we're starting to see signs of_

_Ori punching towards us." Letting go of the transmit button, the lithe man quickly took aim at the approaching Ori force._

"_God help us if we can't hold them back..." James muttered as he shifted his P90 slightly, holding it surely despite the slightly slick blood on his hands, and opened fire as the first of many Ori soldiers began bombarding them with plasma bursts..._

"... That was when Captain Samuels and Alpha linked up with us, General." Shifting slightly in his seat, James looked around the table and offered a slight shrug. "I can't think of anything notable in enemy actions or that of our own side during the course of the battle not already mentioned."

With a serious look, Landry nodded. "So noted, Lieutenant. Nothing to worry about. Now, we're going to have to dismiss now because SG-8 has a mission briefing in another ten minutes. Anything further to add, anyone?"

A chorus of negative answers met his question, causing Landry to stand. "Then dismissed." Not even giving everyone time to rise as protocol dictated, the aging general marched back to his office. SG-1 quickly left for their individual pursuits while SG-21 milled about slightly, looking at each other, silently asking themselves what was bothering Landry.

Rob looked at his watch and almost whistled. "Alright, people. It's almost 1330. Why don't you all go grab some lunch and work at your mission reports until 1600. After that, we can head out and have a look at the available off-base housing." After a round of agreement, Rob started the small parade out of the conference room, draining the last of his now cold coffee.

Waving the others on, Rob made a detour past his office, dumping his file folders and making a short phone call. When he walked into the commissary, Rob smiled as he saw his six teammates laughing at something – the barb was likely aimed at Luke given his slight blush. Quickly, the young officer made his way over to the food line, grabbing a pasta and meatball dish and a bowl of some hearty-looking chicken noodle soup with vegetables and a bun on the side. Pausing at the dessert area, he grabbed a cup of red Jello and a cup of mixed melon pieces. A bottle of iced tea and a bottle of Pepsi finished off the tray as he made his way out of the slightly crowded commissary.

The only person amid the group of SG-21 personnel to see him appear and leave was Andrea, who quickly figured out his plan and decided to leave him to it.

Five minutes later and the young Canadian stood beside a bed in the infirmary, setting the tray in his hands down on a table that a thoughtful nurse had rolled over. The brunette in the bed he stood beside looked up in confusion, wondering what he was doing there.

Smiling, Rob sat down by her knee, holding out the two bottles. "Which would you like?" Still confused, Hannah took the iced tea and set it close to her on the table. Rob quickly repeated his question, giving the younger woman her choice of lunch entrée. She took the soup, not trusting herself to be able to handle the slightly richer pasta dish.

As she took a tentative taste of her soup, Rob finally answered her unasked question. "I spoke to Doctor Lam twenty minutes or so ago, and asked if you were able to join the rest of your team in the commissary for lunch. When she flatly refused to let you out of that bed, I then asked if you were allowed solid food. Since she said yes, I decided to bring a little piece of the team lunch to you."

A look of surprise crossed Hannah's face, causing her eyes to widen far enough Rob almost thought they'd pop out of their sockets. _Be a shame if they did. Kid's got some beautiful green eyes._ Taking another spoonful of soup, Hannah slowly recovered from her surprise. "I'm honoured, sir -" Looking at the glare he gave her, she quickly changed her mind, "- Rob, I mean. You didn't have to go to all this trouble just for me."

Laughing slightly, Rob looked around before leaning forward slightly, as if to impart some great secret. "I've spent enough time in your position to know how bloody lonely and boring it can get being confined to bed." After all, he'd been three days in the hospital after a knee injury he'd taken during his grade 10 year playing rugby.

The whole situation was enough for Hannah to start laughing at the earnest expression on her commanding officer's face. "You.. You, the lone wolf of the group, got LONELY?" At the mock-hurt expression on Rob's face, she relented slightly, adopting an innocent expression. "Of course, I'd never say something like that out loud..."

Grinning at his friend, Rob took another bite of his lunch. "You know, you really need to work on that innocent thing."

Completely unrepentant, the brunette simply shrugged her shoulders. "Why play innocent when you're not guilty of anything?"

_Bah. Why do I bother with this woman?_ Rob grumbled to himself as he playfully punched her uninjured thigh. "You getting treated right down here?" he asked, deliberately changing the topic.

"Other than not having enough cute male nurses for me to ogle and pinch the asses of...?" She laughed as Rob made a face at her impudent statement. "Seriously, all I miss is some music and something to read. It's bloody boring just laying here staring at the ceiling."

Further conversation was paused as a nurse came in, politely shoved Rob out of the way, and went about checking Hannah's vitals and the dressings on her wounds. The delay was enough for the bearded captain to finish his lunch and pull out his almost omni-present PDA to start working on the mission report he'd wanted to get finished before the debriefing. Instead, the new information had caused him to re-evaluate his writing and edit it slightly, both for accuracy and for the new conclusions he'd heard.

A sing-song voice broke him out of concentration. "All work and no play makes Rob a dull boy!" The laugh that followed could only come from one source, which Rob quickly made note of before getting up from the chair he'd been in and reclaiming his spot on the bed.

"You're a real pain, you know that, right?"

The twinkle in Hannah's eyes told everyone who saw her that she was really enjoying being able to spend some time with a friend. Especially when that friend was one who was willing to tease and be teased in turn without any hard feelings. She mustered her best cute little girl voice and puppy-dog eyes. "But you love me anyway, right?"

By now a couple of passing nurses were hiding their smiles and trying not to chuckle. Adopting a mock-severe look, Rob glared at her. "Don't ask me why..." He grasped her hand for a moment before starting to rise. "Listen, I've got to get this stuff back to the commissary and get some paperwork done before the team tries to find places to live."

Wordlessly, Hannah used the hand he was holding to pull the slightly startled man closer, wrapping him in a firm hug that was quickly returned. Just before they split apart, she whispered something into his ear, causing him to give her a gentle kiss to the cheek as she lay back down. Collecting the debris from lunch, Rob looked at the resting woman a final time before heading out of the infirmary to take care of his appointed tasks.

However, his mind wouldn't let go of the words she'd spoken just before they'd parted: _Thank you for caring, Rob._

The words seemed normal enough, but the way she'd said them had him wondering what kind of things had been running through Hannah's mind – or her past.

* * *

Author's Note: Thus ends Part 1 of CSGC. Rather than breaking up the various parts into seperate stories, I've decided to keep it all under one banner. The current plan is to start posting Facta Non Verba (Part 2) this spring/summer. As usual, I look forward to any and all constructive comments regarding this work. 


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